Ross: Yo, Lute.
Lute: Hi, Son-of--I mean--Ross.
Ross: Hey, you remembered my name finally!
Lute: Because I'm good.
Ross: Huh?
Lute: Are you here to insult me today?
Ross: Where'd you get that from?! You are as strange as ever.
Lute: Thank you very much.
Ross: That wasn't a compliment! Have you always been like this?
Lute: You mean, have I always been brilliant? Well, I've been me. So, yes. I've been surrounded by books for as long as I can remember.
Ross: You studied magic since you were a kid?! Did you do anything for fun?
Lute: Well, there's my monk-watching habit.
Ross: Huh? Never mind. How about your mother and father?
Lute: I don't have any memory of my parents. But according to my grandmother, they are traveling in distant lands.
Ross: Oh... So you have a grandmother. What is she like?
Lute: She's like an elegant goldfish that's been sun-dried with a wildflower.
Ross: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Lute: OK then. So long.
Ross: Hey! Hey, Lute!
Lute: Yes?
Ross: You may be a great mage, but you don't seem to be physically strong. So, from now on... Well... I'll be at your side to protect you.
Lute: Well, that's very kind. But you know that the more likely scenario is that I'll be protecting you.
Ross: That's not what you're supposed to say! You're just supposed to say "Yes"!
Lute: OK. Yes.
Ross: Man... I might not seem that tough now, but someday I will grow up to be a man as strong as my dad. You wait and see!
Lute: OK. I'll look forward to it. But I won't get my hopes too high. Disappointment is a cruel mistress.
Ross: You! Grrr! I'll show you!