"It's nice to meet you too, Myira," he replied.<br/><br/>The girl, tilting her head at him, seemed curious at his own species description. He thought about healers the moment Myira mentioned them. They didn't work one bit because he wasn't<span style="font-style: italic">technically</span>alive. Someone described it as casting a healing spell on a statue. Cryos didn't like the analogy, but he got the point.<br/><br/>And he was pretty much the only independent golem he knew. Making a golem out of red crystal and diamonds must have been ridiculously expensive, and he heard rumours about how golems were made, but all that he was told 'it's really better not to ask.'<br/><br/>Cryos had a little mental grin when Myira mentioned his body. He liked looking shiny; he compared it to how women put on make-up or when men dressed up in fine clothing.<br/><br/>Myira mentioned her father, who she said was a merchant. Was he the sort of cut-throat merchant that traded between Sothara Sora and Gaul? Cryos met one that was more of a revolutionary leader than a merchant, though the title 'Merchant of Death' might have been more of an honorary one and less of a job description.<br/><br/>The girl was served food at Cryos's table. His gaze went to the steam wafting off the food she received, and he began to wonder. Food confused Cryos. People enjoyed putting it into their mouths, then chewing and swallowing it, but depriving them of it caused them immense pain. Furthermore, some people seemed to not like certain kinds of food.<br/><br/>"This... sense of taste... can you describe it?" he asked softly, the shimmering from his body almost drowning out his own voice.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Can you describe the beauty of flowers to a blind man, Cryos?"</span><br/><br/>That's what another companion told Cryos once, which made him realise his previous question was stupid. He hoped she didn't hear him speak.<br/><br/>Then she began to speak about paying jobs. Blacksmiths were bad people to work for, since the last one he worked for wanted Cryos pick out red-hot swords with his bare hands. As she went back to eat her steak, Cryos considered his options.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Actually, why doesn't she ask why I want money, anyway? Loads of people ask that sort of question. 'You're made of shiny rock, and you want shiny metals?', they would ask.</span><br/><br/>"Hey... uh... you're awfully quick to consider me normal," said Cryos. He paused for a bit, parsing the words in his mind carefully. "Most people don't. And..."<br/><br/>He had a question to ask, but it slipped his mind for a bit.<br/><br/>"Do you know where I can get nice-looking clothing on the cheap side?"