Lion Head Mesa Let's get ethical, ethical. . .

These questions served to distance Glaukos from some of his idling thoughts; mainly those of the palace itself, its tight walls, and the many bodies within. He loathed the idea of going back inside. It was nice out here in the open air, with a pretty girl.

I was born... he'd almost said it, and caught himself. Glaukos did not want to think about the place where he'd started; he'd come so far by now, and it was only darkness there. I was born in a place north-east of here, called Bearclaw.

The girl's eyes were upon him, tracing his body. He thought, surely, that she would look upon him and see the fat, slovenly, sad child and not the soldier he'd made of himself; for an instant, at least. Glaukos felt suddenly very strange and could not meet her eye.