I’m precious.
Precious in the way only rare things are. Particularly when that rare thing is the last of its kind.
Think about it. You think nothing about walking on grass – assuming, that is, you live on a part of the Earth that has grass. But if you happen to be walking through, say, sanddunes all day and you come across a single blade of grass poking through the sand, you will walk around it.
On Earth, I am one of billions. Literally nothing special, a nobody. If I died today on Earth, two or three people would be born in the very next second to fill my place. Certainly few would notice. Or care.
Here on Rotrushep, I am rare, I am precious, becuase there is no one – and nothing – else like me.
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