At such words, Damian's reply was imperious.
"Human. Beast."
He shrugged as if the distinction meant nothing.
"What difference does it make in the Lands of Stone?"
His voice carried across the distance with absolute conviction.
"When they die, their skeletons sink into the Lands of Stone and turn to dust the same. After you eat, you shit the same. When you feel heat, you procreate the same."
He tilted his head, regarding the massive Behemoth with an expression that bordered on contempt for the very question it had asked.
"I see no difference between man or beast."
...!
The Inkanyamba became silent!
The storm-clouds around its mane slowed their crackling. The lightning that had been arcing continuously between its scales dimmed. Even its breath, which had been generating gale-force winds, seemed to still.
Serala frowned as she looked at Damian, her wing-shaped pupils conveying a question that didn't need Mana to transmit.
