This whole exchange elevated something incredibly surreal: How instinctively disconnected from his previous life the town’s newcomer was feeling at the moment. Perhaps it was due to how swiftly Calx had segregated his present self from his past self, replacing what made him who he was with something new, something untainted? He was essentially a pony in mint condition as it stood. Rebuilding a life from the ground up felt right, because, amongst many things, he could freely detach from the obstacles that kept strangling him on a daily basis. It was one gigantesque relief. A 20 something year relief. He could finally breathe.