Kyrie grimaced a little. "Are you saying I look like a simpleton?" The human wholeheartedly agreed he was indeed a simpleton, but it didn't mean people could call him that; it would hurt his poor, poor feelings.
"Exactly," the woman answered in a heartbeat, no hesitation in her voice. Kyrie winced. "At least you are not like them; they have the 'rich people' air around them. Even the kindest one, the redhead, is like that." She sighed, and Kyrie knew exactly who she was talking about.
James. "He would never come to this place because it would hurt the big guy's image and what he wants to cultivate, joining commoners in a forgotten zone would do little to improve the image of the high and mighty unreachable hero he wants to be."
