“Does he have ears like a bunny, too?” “He does, yes.” For once the druin didn’t bridle at the association. “But his are droopy, because he is very old.” Cura found a smirk and slapped it on. “You know what else droops when it gets old?” “What?” Wren chirped. “Yes, please,” said Freecloud dryly. “Tell my five-year-old daughter what else droops when it gets old.” “Oh … um …” Cura wilted under the druin’s glare. “Flowers?”