Iobel and not!Elves
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Cricket is very soft. He purrs.

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Iobel giggles.

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He contentedly pets Cricket. What a soft cat. 

Antir circles around Iobel. "If you hold out a hand she'll probably land," he says.

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So Iobel holds out a hand.

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And she lands. And walks up her arm to her shoulder and nuzzles her head. Though she also says to Mitros, "I think you're taking this a little far, dear."

He doesn't acknowledge that.

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Iobel glances at Mitros in case a translation will be forthcoming, but doesn't ask. "She has an unusually tasteful name as familiars go, has it always been the same?"

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"Yes, but I was influenced in picking it - my father speaks all of our idiolects, he finds them really exciting and wants to understand how they come about and collects them like other people collect spells or books or something. Antir means 'far-seeing'."

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"All of them? That must have taken him forever."

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"About six weeks each, actually, it's incredible."

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"Wow. None of you wanted to keep them to yourselves?"

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"I mean, there've definitely been moments since when I've wished for it, but on the other hand it's not like he objects if she hops up and whispers in my ear, and he loves languages so much he practically glows while we explain them to him. I was eager to be old enough I could teach it usefully."

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"Awww."

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"The list of people my father likes is only any longer than Cricket's because his children are on there, but I bet you two will get along."

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"Is he going to be around tonight?"

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"Not unless someone drags him. He gets really obsessive with his projects. Ruafar said at one point that he doesn't see Father surfacing while the King's still alive unless there's a wedding or a grandchild.

Mind, the King will not live much longer."

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"I assume you've already had better healers than me look him over."

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"It's just old age. He's eighty, at some point there's not much spells can do."

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"Yet."

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"Thus my father's relentlessness. Nothing like having the means to save everyone, ever, and having no way at all to fit it in your head."

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Nod.

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"I worry a little about the state he'll be in if the King dies." He straightens up and holds out his arm for Antir; she flies back to him.

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Nod.

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"Concert?"

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"Of course."

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It is an excellent concert. Makarial's voice carries wonderfully without any amplification.

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