Rasma picked up the wine bottle, poured himself a glass, then poured one for Old Hoffen.
"Try it. I made it myself."
Old Hoffen lowered his head, twitched his nose, and shook his head after a deep sniff, saying:
"Nowhere near as good as my grandson's wine."
Rasma snapped, "I've only heard the family here say Kallen is a good cook. I've never heard he could make wine too."
"That's what you don't understand. Never having made it doesn't mean he can't. My grandson is good at everything he does."
"Ha, your grandson this, your grandson that. How can you be so shameless?"
"Am I?"
"Even his real grandfather doesn't go on about his grandson all day like you do. Speaking of which, don't you have one of your own?"
"What does my own have to do with me?"
Rasma: "..."
"Kallen is my grandson. When he comes back, he still has to call me Grandpa. Every time he says 'Grandpa,' it makes my bones... no, I don't have bones now. Anyway, it makes my consciousness go all tingly."
"I can't understand it. I think those Principle Notes have polluted you."
"Pah, you're the one who's been polluted." Old Hoffen raised his glass and drained it. "Seeing you unable to understand makes me happy. Heh heh."
Just then, both old men paused slightly.
Rasma said, "He's back."
Old Hoffen said, "My grandson is back."
Rasma walked to the windowsill and looked out at the street. "He didn't come straight home."
Old Hoffen thought nothing of it. "He probably went to see that friend of his from the Wall God Church first."
"Is that person really the Wall God's Inheritance Heir?"
"Yes. Dis was there the day he received the Wall God's inheritance."
"Kallen should have reported something like this to