. . .

Hans looks evenly at Joffun.

“So what I need from you,” says Hans, “is for you to go up and find this Mr. Gulley and his wolf. Make sure that the chains on that wolf do not fail. I am hardly the only svart-elf who can bind these monsters, you know. When I am gone, you shall all have to step up and face the task. And I have heard good things of your work on bird spittling.”

The mood in the room suddenly shifts. Joffun is suddenly avid, joyous. “You have?”

It’s like having the Krampus praise your fashion sense, or Thon-Gul X admire your skill as an online tank. It’s not so much a reward for victory as a sneaky unexpected pump to the validation chamber of your heart. The categories of Joffun’s brain all suddenly go askew.

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