"Dead?" the dwarf asked, distracted by the small creature's sudden exclamation. "You're wrong, littlun, take a look here." Whatever effects the liquor had had on Angar seemed to dissipate as he spoke. He knelt, careful not to hover over anything but the floor itself, and removed a glove. "Ye see the stone here, long-legs? 'tis separated from the Earth, to be sure, but merely to serve a purpose in the second stages of its life. A beautiful thing, ain't she? From the north, if I ain't mistaken; she's cold, y'see, even with all these torches and bumblin' drunks." He reached to retrieve the girl's hand and, despite her wince, pulled her down so her palm met the same stone. "Not dead, just different."