"You callin' me stupid, Palmer?" came a low, gravely voice from the other side of the courtyard. Walking up to Emmett and Zariah was a middle-aged fellow, a Natural man who was well enough known - let's call him N.P. Crane - and a well-known Destined Abandoned in the community. He lumbered up, crossing his arms as he looked between the two. He offered a slight bow to Zariah, mumbling a 'your highness' in her direction before looking back at the axe wielding farm-boy once again.
"Yer just like yer old man, boy, spoutin' off shit like you somehow know everythin' about everythin' and everyone." he groused at him, brows furrowed. "It ain't yer problem, bein' Attuned an' all, but folk like me are sick of bearin' the burden of the punishment of one magic user o're three hundred years ago. I ain't never done a man wrong, I work hard, and wut 'cause some stupid Acquired all those years ago pissed off the gods now everyone things folk like me are less then? Rotten? Pah!" N.P. Crane turned his head to the side and spat, clearly less than happy.
"Open yer eyes boy. This' ain't got a thing to do with Naturals or Outlanders. Ain't got a thing to do with thinkin' anyone is better than anyone else. It's got to do with who is most qualified, who wants everyone to be equal no matter where they was born or if they can turn into donkeys or make chunks of metal out of thin air or can't stand in the daylight fer shit. There's a whole damn world out their ain't none of us old enough to remember. Them Fae folk who kidnapped us and been actin' unfriendly is just the starters. If we ain't got someone who knows how to lead and build and fight, we all are as good as dead. So how 'bouts you take that fight with ya, sign up for our army, and fuck yer pretty 'lil girlfriend of yours to blow off some steam and start thinkin' 'bout the bigger picture like the grown ass man yer pretendin' to be, boy."
"Yer just like yer old man, boy, spoutin' off shit like you somehow know everythin' about everythin' and everyone." he groused at him, brows furrowed. "It ain't yer problem, bein' Attuned an' all, but folk like me are sick of bearin' the burden of the punishment of one magic user o're three hundred years ago. I ain't never done a man wrong, I work hard, and wut 'cause some stupid Acquired all those years ago pissed off the gods now everyone things folk like me are less then? Rotten? Pah!" N.P. Crane turned his head to the side and spat, clearly less than happy.
"Open yer eyes boy. This' ain't got a thing to do with Naturals or Outlanders. Ain't got a thing to do with thinkin' anyone is better than anyone else. It's got to do with who is most qualified, who wants everyone to be equal no matter where they was born or if they can turn into donkeys or make chunks of metal out of thin air or can't stand in the daylight fer shit. There's a whole damn world out their ain't none of us old enough to remember. Them Fae folk who kidnapped us and been actin' unfriendly is just the starters. If we ain't got someone who knows how to lead and build and fight, we all are as good as dead. So how 'bouts you take that fight with ya, sign up for our army, and fuck yer pretty 'lil girlfriend of yours to blow off some steam and start thinkin' 'bout the bigger picture like the grown ass man yer pretendin' to be, boy."
