Von-Ryan and Recalsatrix sat at the table in the grand garden watching a small monkey climb a percimon tree as they waited for their host to make his apperance.
"You have scarcely touched your ail my lord. Is something amiss?" ask Recalssatrix.
Von-Ryan shifted his eyes to the monkey who sat on a branch eating a frest percimion.
"I don't trust that monkey."
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