"This place never changes," observed Nikki as she nursed a cider, "and to think I used to frequent it."
They were sitting in the Three Rings, a tavern that was showing its age. The floors were well worn, the tables scratched and cut, and the patrons that frequented it, equally as haggard.
"Things are always nicer in our memories," observed Arnim. "It"s like when you"re a child, and you love visiting some place. You go back as an adult and discover how terribly wrong you were about it."
"Thinking of your own childhood," she asked, "or our child"s future?"
"Perhaps a little of both," he revealed.
"I do believe you"re getting sentimental on me," she said.
"Nonsense," said Arnim, "I"m just looking to the future."
"Now there"s the gruff Arnim I"m used to," said Nikki. "You"ve let him loo
