“The damned thing has mood swings worse than a Faeling whose balls are about to drop.” Ren laughed, nodding up at me. “Funny you mention balls. Ask him how his are.” I groaned, leaning up against the table in the center of the room. “Gods alive, are you going to tell everyone?” Lorreth frowned. Stooping, he collected a mug of beer from the floor at his feet. “Tell me what? What’s wrong with your balls?” He took a swig.
