[Rue can sense his unease with the subject and the disbelief that lingers, but they give his hand a gentle, affectionate pat.]

My husband and I are the same, in a sense. He is a bugbear and I am, well, as I am. We have faced the same prejudices that you have, no doubt, we've been met time after time with the cruelty of others.

[To be seen as nothing more than their physical form, Rue understands how deep that hurt goes, how impossible it sometimes feels shake off.]

But you'll find that here, in Folkmore, that there are many more like us. We are not the minority. There is space for you here, room to be yourself, to grow into whomever it is you would like to become.