“Fah!” said Edgar gruffly as Leaza moved away towards the spiderling who had descended abruptly upon the gathering. 

 He'd only had time to give a gentle squeeze to her slender hands, and he was somewhat uncomfortable at the touch.  His own hands, gnarled and rough, were as hard and dry as the rocks he loved.  Its not that he was ashamed of his own body, far from it, he was far too old for that nonsense.  He'd walk around naked if the sight wouldn't terrify everyone.  He was just uncomfortable with people knowing how close to the stone he himself was.  He hadn't much time left in this world, at least not as stone reckoned time, and he didn't mind that part.  He was always tired these days anyway, he just wanted one big discovery before the time came.  What burdened his mind was that he had no idea what would happen to him when that time came.  He had noticed his body growing heavier, his bones instead of growing weak were growing heavy and ossified.  His skin was vaguely gritty, dry and hard, oddly so as when most humans aged their skin grew pale and thin.  Would he just turn to stone one day or maybe he would never wake up from his slumber and just dissolve into the wall?  He didn't know and he didn't want to.  And Lady Leaza was one of the few beings who might have that answer.  He hoped she would never tell him.          

“No need to be so nice about it dear Lady” said Edgar burying his discomfort as Leaza moved off.  “You and I both know no one reveres me, at most they tolerate me.  Usually they are just to afraid to contradict me.  They smile and nod and say nothing hoping I'll go away soon.  But I've fooled them; I'm not gone yet.  And this” he gestured at the stone statuary around him “will make a damn good story to bore them with.  If I'm really really lucky they will get so bored they will just do what I tell them to just to shut me up.” 

He cackled to himself imagining his next lecture.  

“You should come to the next lecture, Lady Leaza, it's sure to be a good one.”

With that he turned and moved heavily around the statues running a hand tenderly along the cold stone surfaces.  The touch of his mind, and the touch of his hands, invoked no response in the stone.  Between stone that was too chatty and stone that was nothing he was feeling a bit irritable.  More so than normal.  It was the mental equivalent of having gravel in your butt crack.  He was close to the stone, but not -that- close to the stone. 

“They aren't dead you know” he said without preamble.  “I mean they aren't alive.”  He shook his head trying to figure out how to explain his thoughts.  “What I really mean to say is that they aren't stone.  Not as I know stone.  They are somehow both more and less.  You really should have someone dust them regularly though; shows respect.”  He polished a bit of the unicorn's mane absently asking the grit and dirt politely to remove itself; it complied sticking instead to Edgar's clothing and joining the army of dirt already gathered there.  “Plus the grit finds the statues uncomfortable, apparently they are too bubbly.”  He frowned briefly at that description.  What the hell was bubbly rock?

“There are answers to be had here and there, if we make sure to ask the right questions.  There is much to do and undo.” 

Pulling his staff close to his body he turned his back on the cold stone statues and looked around, his eyes sharp intense.  This was going to big, he could feel it in the earth below and the stone within. 

“Well?” he asked slightly impatiently “where and when do we start?  I don't have all of time you know, could drop dead at any moment.  I'm old, I hear it happens to old people all the time.”