Peat Bog

Ehh? Whatwhat? What’s that you say?

Um… I didn’t say anything?

Quite right too. All the talking that goes on. No thought for those who might just want a bit of peace.

I hear you.

You know who was the worst? The Zillots. Always bangin’ on about the mighty giant that thought them up as some perfect little people.

And?

Hogwash. Even if there WERE giants, and I ain’t sayin’ that there are, and I ain’t sayin’ that there aren’t, the only things they had a mind for were mountains, oceans, and grand poobahs.

Poobahs?

Poobahs! Here’s learnin’ for ya: If anyone thought them little’uns into bein’, it was the trees, or the animals, or, peat-a-mercy, I might've even done it!

Did you?

No. But I might. More likely, though, they went ahead and just imagined themselves.

And that's possible?

Anything's possible. 'Cept carrying on this conversation. I'm bored. Gitoffa my lawn, kid.

Gittinoffit.

Peat Bog

What-what? Hehm? You’re lookin’ for some learnin, I reckon?

I guess? If you have any?

If I have any indeed… Me… Peat… Down here for longer than anyone can remember? Tut. Here’s the matter: there are a great number of things round ‘ere that suppose themselves more important than they are, y’hear?

Like?

There are lumps of rock that’ll tell you how they – they personally – are a piece of grit from under the very fingernails of their beloved Zille. But no. No sirree. Them rocks are made by Tii.

Tii? What?…

Fer alchemy and whatnot. Them rocks don’t like it, but they were only ever brought into being to be broken up again into a zillion tiny pieces.

That’s… sad?

Life’s sad, Glitch’un, and life’s long: Especially when you’re a frakking bog. Now gettoffa my lawn.

Consider me gottenoffa.

Peat Bog

Back again, are ya? Liked the taste of learnin’ on your little brain-tongue, did ya?

Not so much when you put it like that…

Well, that’s the only way you’ll git. I’m peat. I’m the oldest one here, and I bow to no one. And I’ll tell you this for nuthin’…

I’m ready.

Well, them young rocks can carry on believin’ what they want about the fancy mythical roots of their beginnins’, but the fact is, no one thought them into being but themselves.

Huh?

What I say is what I mean. They thought themselves up. We all did. Their “Giants” had no part in the matter. And that’s the truth.

Is it?

I just said it was, didn’t I? Seriously, kid: getoffa my lawn.

Gottenoft already, old grumpface.