“Lovers’ quarrel, amiright?” Damon reaches across the table and casually plucks the last sausage off Kirian’s plate. “Maybe I don’t want a mate after all.” Kirian snatches it back. “That’s mine.” “Mine, mine, everything is mine,” Damon mimics with a huff. He gestures to the spread. “You know what I got for breakfast this morning? Porridge. The Dream Realm king doesn’t get the same respect here that you do. They didn’t give me any sausages. I’m just a poor blind man trying to find something to eat.”
