When the turn arrived at the Outer Circle, the aged man hoisted himself to his feet. His throne woven from the wind dispersed; elevating the leaves—which had rebelled to abandon the branches of the trees yet plummeted to the earth as a conclusion—into the air, it vanished.
"I presume while designing the Outer Circle, they succumbed to the emotion dubbed arrogance, birthed courtesy of constituting humans. Do you possess intelligence regarding the justification for the wild beast raids assaulting systematically every single day?"
Mel, anticipating a protracted explanation, startled accompanied by the arriving inquiry. The aged man coveted to hear the explanation of a matter he possessed the rejoinder to from him once more, yet deciphering he would fail to secure triumph this time identically, he persisted in conversing.
