The Tyr had tried. It had really tried. It must have gone over every element of human psychology, tried desperately to understand the nature of human aesthetic sense … and then failed, miserably, in every regard.

My identity is without root.

Only in summer-phase is it carnivorous.” If there was an award for understatement, I thought, the Tyr would trounce all competition.

We share need, not-human. Yours is straightforward.” … “Mine is less so, but you will serve it. Come.