“Oh, now I get it. See, none of this made very much sense until now. You're just salty that the wizard didn't give you that heart you asked for. Don't worry, tin man, I'm sure you'll find true love someday, or whatever the fuck you wanted a heart for.”

Pain was second nature to Feyd at this stage of being a fire handler. He wasn't sure if anyone else's learning curve had been as difficult as his had been, but most of his training had involved accidentally setting himself on fire. And before that, he had been beaten to a pulp at least twice a week by his father. He had a trick or two up his sleeve. His ribs were still a dull, throbbing ache and the road rash that covered the entire left side of his body wasn't very pleasant, but it was child's play compared to what he had weathered before. He wasn't really scared of whatever tin man could throw his way.