Cedar Sweep Half Algorithm, Half Deity

Machiavelli chuckled, a low, knowing sound that reverberated against the trees. A jackdaw called in the distance, its squeaky laugh dismissed with an irritated flick of the dog's muddied ear. Did the stranger hear it too? Or was it only in the dog's head?

Trouble in paradise? The half-breed murmured, half-draped against the rough bark, a wry smile playing on his lips.

And just what sort of gift might that be? he continued, voice laced with idle curiosity. His thoughts drifted, picturing the glimmer of gold veins winding through his den like rivulets of liquid sunlight.