Simmaeri mulled over ctsv's words with care, still quietly marveling at simple sound in air being the source of his speech. Perhaps not so simple, perhaps a muted magic she could not feel...The notion struck her that maybe it was more than his shape and voice that was small.

More peculiarities still: born? There came a rumble, causing a bit of a shudder of heavy skin at her mouth. She couldn't imitate the sound, let alone conceive a way to speak it her own way.

What is the difference? she asked. What can there be but being made?