Now, pray tell, which idiot would be willing to explain what "degenerate" means?
Moreover, who in their right mind would be willing to admit that to their own boss?
Riley's mind raced as the golden lizard in front of him looked far too expectant, waiting for an explanation that he clearly assumed would be easy to describe.
Then again, what was so hard about saying that it generally meant a lowlife—a disgrace to society, his family, himself, and definitely his cows?
Riley grimaced. His mouth opened once, closed, then opened again as though his brain had gone on strike.
"Explain," said Kael at last, tone clipped and flat, the kind of voice that could start wars if he wanted to.
Riley flinched, dragging his palms down his face. "I can't believe this. This was exactly what I was avoiding..." he muttered into his hands.
Kael blinked once. "Is this another illness?"
"No," Riley groaned, shaking his head in despair. "No, it's not a sickness, it's worse. It's moral decay."
