"Don't you ever die?"
"Oh, yess. We die."
"How?"
Shel Lur merely shrugged and repeated: "We die." And looked at him impassively.
He liked those rare occasions when she sent him out with the laundry to the section laundry where the humans toiled day and night with the heavy garments. It was good to see your own kind, he thought, even if they are slaves.
Once he tried to lose himself in the city, but an unerring Krak came straight to his hiding spot behind an eating place, lifted him out of his lair, and returned him to Shel Lur.
Shel Lur had not even chided him on his long absence, but had merely looked at him impassively.
This day began differently. Shel Lur woke him by prodding him with her big foot and when he sat up on the cold floor, she pointed, her face a blank:
"See?" she said.
He twisted his aching neck sharply, and almost gasped: