Greg shuffled uncomfortably. Even though he knew that she was only right when she said he had a gift, he wasn't used to praise of any sort especially about something that his father would have cursed him soundly for being caught doing.
"Got to be good at something," he said finally as he picked up his cup of tea. It was stone cold and had appeared to have partially congealed but he knocked it back with a twist of a wrist better suited for rotgut firewhiskey but worked just as well on tea for bypassing as many taste buds as possible.
"It's getting late," he said abruptly. "I gotta walk Draklet and get dinner."