“Don’t you ever just want to… to be human?” She comes into the house and leans against the wall next to the door, crossing her arms and her ankles. “We aren’t human.” “Yes. We. Are.” His voice turns fierce. “I don’t give a shit what the something-somethingth council of big important farts decreed, or how the geomests classify things, or any of that. That we’re not human is just the lie they tell themselves so they don’t have to feel bad about how they treat us—” This, too, is something all roggas know. Only Alabaster is vulgar enough to say it aloud.
