Bimsley the Pul’kin looked at the boy standing in front of him with a look mixed with confusion, bordering on annoyance, and uncertainty. The boy certainly didn’t look like he was pulling his chain about not knowing what a Pul’kin was, not with those pure eyes. Seeing such an innocent gaze staring at him, even if it was from a young lad, made Bimsley feel a little uncomfortable for some reason. Finally, after taking in a long breath, he released the captured air and lightly stroked at his beard.

“You say you’re from an orphanage? Did they teach you anything about Puledas and the other races mixing?”

“Mixing?” Clearly Ethan wasn’t catching Bimsley’s meaning.

“Really?! Mixing! You know…” Bimsley stopped with a grunt and then left his beard alone to rub his face with both of his broad, thick fingered, hands. Finally he pulled them down from his face and continued.

“When a Puledas and another member of the race make children.” The look on his face was a bit crooked, not because he was a dirty old man, but because deep down, in his soul, he was hoping the boy would finally pick up on what he meant by mixing.

“Oh! Yes they did…. But… They didn’t mention a particular term for it.”

“Well, I can’t blame them for that. It wasn’t until the last several generations or so that everyone began to discover that there was something different about us when compared to other offspring from different races.” Crossing his arms and resting them against his chest he seemed rather proud with that statement.

“Ooooh…. Different how?” Ethan excitedly asked, completely enthralled by the details of something new.

“How in the heavens did he end up in a conversation like this with a random kid? Was all Bimsley could think to himself. Finally, after yet another deep breath, he began to explain.

“For whatever reason, when a Puledas mate with another one of the prime races, whether it be with a Human, Wyr’kin, or Raginer the offspring are all no taller than four and a half feet, have typical hands with five fingers, standard feet with five toes, and are hairless, except for the males that have beards.” He gave his chest length beard hair a good flick with his big hand.

“Even if two Pul’kin of different racial lineage mate, the only parts of their body that may change are the parts influenced by the non-Puledas races.”

He pointed to himself before continuing.

“My mom was a Pul’kin with Wyr’kin heritage where my dad was a Pul’kin with Raginer heritage. I have slightly pointed ears,” he clarified his words by turning his head to each side, revealing his ears one at a time.

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“But I’m also much thicker and muscular than a Pul’kin with only Wyr’kin lineage.” This time he lifted his arms to shoulder length and curled them toward his head as he flexed proudly.

“Furthermore, since us Pul’kin have such an established, and unwavering, physical appearance that doesn’t change even when two Pul’kin have offspring, most people have begun to consider us a separate race completely.” He lowered his arms, returning them to his sides, all the while wearing a smug expression.

“So, what do you think of that?”

Ethan couldn’t find words to reply, he just stood there stock still with his mouth partially open and his eyes wide with wonder. Finally, after nearly a minute of their silent staring contest, having realized Bimsley had stopped talking, Ethan stirred. He looked down toward the floor in thought, tried to digest as much of the information as possible, and then suddenly.

“THAT’S SO AMAZING MR. BIMSELY!” If it was possible for the boy to physically explode he certainly would have. Fortunately for everyone (yes even you), he couldn’t, and thus didn’t. Instead he threw his arms out and exclaimed his words loudly and without reservation.

There wasn’t any way the Pul’kin could have known how much learning information previously unknown to him excited Ethan. He simply loved learning new things, no matter how small or large, how important or insignificant, if you wanted to get Ethan on your side for something you could always bribe him with knowledge. Despite his outburst earnest gratitude was plastered all over his face and when he rushed forward to grab one of Bimsley’s hands so that he could shake it violently those visible emotions only intensified.

It took a few seconds but Bimsley was finally able to get the shaking under control. Despite his large arms, which prevented any damage from the eager boy, he could only imagine if a less sturdy person had been subjected. Wincing a bit at the thought of someone’s limb being yanked out of place slipped into his mind he subconsciously rubbed his hands together.

“So now you know what the Pul’kin are. There aren’t many of us but be respectful.”

“Oh yes, yes of course!”

“Now I need to be getting back to work and don’t you need to get to the adventurer’s guild?”

“Oh…” The light suddenly left Ethan’s eyes, like he was welcoming an old friend in the form of darkness. The brightness that had just been in his heart suddenly faded as the scary guild lady with the evil walk emerged from the shadows of fears. He was probably getting a little worked up….. Probably.

“She may be stern but she is a good person. Come back when you get some funds and I’ll be happy to take it from you!” He laughed as he spoke gruffly, giving the boy a good strong smack on his back. Ethan was still rubbing his shoulder and sulking when he exited the door, leaving the waving Bimsley behind.

It took him a little bit longer to get back to the guild then it had for him to get to Bimsley’s to begin with. He wasn’t really in a hurry and to say the least, the directions Bimsley gave him were a bit lacking. After finally making it back to the square that the adventurer’s guild stood before he looked around to see if she was around. After feeling confident he didn’t see her he let out the breath he had been holding and started his way toward the entrance.

“Oh there you are! I’ve been waiting for you young man.” The voice was sweet… maybe too sweet. Regardless of its intent he stopped in mid stride as the words registered in his mind. Oh no…. Slowly turning to look back over his shoulder he audibly gulped for a second time that day. The reason? She stood with her back to the building he had just walked passed, one hand resting atop the other against her waist, and a pleasant smile spread over her slightly full lips.