“Thanks,” said Weylin taking the square cardboard box and handing the pizza delivery boy money. He didn’t wait to sit at the table before stuffing a piece of the hot, greasy concoction into his mouth.
“I don’t know how you consume such disgusting sludge.”
“It’s foul. Even with my dulled senses in this wretched mortal body my nose is offended.”
“With you something’s always offended, Gavren.”
“You’ve gone native,” Gavren sneered.
“We don’t know if or when the portal to Faerie will open again. I’m making the most of it. You should too.”
Gavren’s lip curled in reply.