"Dustfinger," Dustfinger replied. He too knew the power in a name, especially if the owner of a name spoke it himself. Dustfinger was the name he had been given by the faeries, but it was not his true name. No one knew his true name, sometimes he wasn't even sure of it himself.
He took her hand in his, and gave a firm squeeze. His hands felt good as new, as if nothing had happened at all. He released her hand, and took up the cup of tea, sipping it carefully to test both the flavor and the heat before he committed to a full sip.