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“Then,” Xal’atath told her, “you should look into giving less, and keeping more. Every time I feel the urge to give someone one of my flying fish ‒ this metaphor is really stretching itself thin, by the by ‒ I put it into a little aquarium instead. I have three million flying fish now, I keep them under my floorboards and in my walls and on my roof and buried in my garden. They bring me great joy, Alleria, they really do, my flying fish.”
“That can’t be true,” Alleria countered. She was smiling now, which was on one hand a huge success, and on the other perhaps the most adorably attractive thing Xal’atath had ever seen. “You’ve given me at least thirty fish, just this afternoon.”
“Perhaps that’s the point of keeping my fish so close to my chest,” Xal’atath said. “So that now that I’ve finally found someone worthy of all my fish, I have an endless supply to luxuriously grant upon them.”
“That’s very kind of you, Miss Xal’atath, but I really don’t think you should be wasting all of those fish on me.”
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or, the one where Alleria is a good girl who follows the teachings of Belore and is having a Very Bad Time -- at least until she meets Xal'atath
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