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Moony rolled his eyes. “Would you rather me address your roots?”
Moony rolled his eyes. “Would you rather me address your roots?”
"I'm not a bush!"
Moony blinked. “Then you are a rather small tree.”
"I'm not a plant! Do I look green to you? No."
Moony peered at a leaf. “You look rather green.”
"Yes, that is a leaf. I am not a leaf."
“So you are a branch.” He pointed to the oddly shaped branch.
"Nooo! I'm not a plant!"
“Then what are you? You’ve repeatedly stated that you are not a plant, while you clearly are!”
"I'm a human, not a plant! You just aren't looking in the right places."
Moony gave the plant a look. “If you were a human, you would’ve betrayed yourself to my sights.”
"You can't see me. That doesn't mean i'm a plant." She looked over the rock at him, her head tilted slightly.
Moony looked at her. “Ah, you are a dirt-planet inhabitant. What are you doing out here, so far from the others?”
"I'm not from here. I'm from there." She said, pointing up to the sun. "And you're from the moon, moon boy." She climbed down from the rock and walked over to him.
Moony watched her. “Ah, you’re a fire-ball-inhabitant. I haven’t seen one of your kind before.”
"What's a fire?" She frowned, looking up at him.
“What your orb is covered in, of course.” He laughed.
"Are you sure? I've never heard of a fire before."
“It’s hot? Orange-red? It is quite common on your orb.”
"Oh! You mean the heat!" She smiled up at him.
Moony tilted his head. “The heat? Your orb is made of flame.”
"On the outside maybe, not on the inside. The heat is just for protection and warmth maybe. Like an atmosphere."
Moony frowned. That didn’t make much sense to him, but he brushed it off. “Sure it is, fire-orb-inhabitant.”
"You're from the moon." She poked him in the chest. "What's that like?"
Moony looked down at her finger. “It’s cold, but nice. Rocky but comfy.”
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