"I must confess," he chuckled, "It is not merely from a one-sided
hospitality that you are welcomed."
"Indeed?" I said.
"Indeed," he answered, "For your appearance and the circumstances of
your arrival are almost uncannily the realizations of one of our most
ancient prophesies, one which we have longed to have fulfilled."
"Is that so?" I rhetorically asked.
"Surely it is," he said with a smile, though from happiness or humor I
could not tell. He went on soberly, saying: "The prophecy is concerning
the kinsman redeemer, one of the ancients sent by Onan, the Lord of the
Past, to redeem us from the destruction of this polluted world."
"What do you mean by 'one of the ancients'?" I interjected
questioningly.
"Exactly what I said," Wagner replied with a light hearted smile, "Let
me explain."
But before he could, we were interrupted by a violent scratching and
pounding at the door, along with some grunting voices which I could not
understand. The Canitaur's ears, which were quite large, though more
erect and postured than floppy, quickly rose to attention, and they had
spent not a moment listening when they uniformly chorused, "Zards," in a
hoarse whisper.
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