"Was your other magic not you?" This is a curious thought, and so of course you have to ask about it because asking questions is kind of your whole thing. You don't really care that much about the political distinctions between the races; you are far more interested in what makes people inherently different, and inherently the same, and how to help them bloom in the best way they can.
Peter does not seem to bloom particularly well, but maybe he just needs a little time. Or some slightly different light.
Does it have to be alive. That's an interesting question, and one that you don't have any easy answer to, besides a shrug. "I guess not," you allow without much protest, your fingers pressing gently onto the luxere's - Apricum's - firm nose. "I wonder if you can sustain life, though? If there's nutrients in ya to keep something alive..."
And without really thinking you hold yourself still. Unless Peter or the luxere interrupt you you will allow yourself to keep from moving long enough to cause a pocket of red-cap mushrooms to grow from Apricum's sternum, brightly colored and merry as they peak out from between its ribs.
