"I am covered in scars like those," an ancient tree informs a butterfly with skeptical glances at the trunk and branches of such a beautiful creature.
"But what caused them?" posed the butterfly gracefully, kindly, almost perfectly content in curiosity.
"Battles. Some with myself. Others with someone else." answered the tree almost instantly.
"I bet that hurt," remarks the delicate butterfly.
"Never any more or less painful than waking up each morning," laughed the tree as the butterfly took a leap into the unknown breeze and flew off again, never to return.
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