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– A local celebrity, I presume? – the sorcerer’s attention returned to Rizz. – What’s wrong with this tribe, anyway?
It was just a resident from the second floor, who managed to change clothes.
- Mm? Hmm.
Realizing the guest’s presence, she doesn’t say anything to him, but yawns, rubs her eyes, and sits down at the dining table. Rizz, obeying muscle memory, serves her some dish prepared by Svarog, as well as a portion for himself and Rureku.
- How did you sleep, princess? - He asks her.
- The bronze lumberjack finally befriended the brave lion, and they jumped on the clouds together, but because of this, it started to rain, and the inhabitants of the land were upset because they got wet.
- Well, well, since you’ve been listening to stories about this very surface, your dreams have become more and more incomprehensible. What clouds, what rain?
- Rain is when water drips from the ceiling. - She looks at Rureku. - Do you want to become a prince on a white horse?