You’d consider yourself a decent liar. And being one doesn’t rely on how well you spin things, but how consistent your stories are. Point is, you’re certain you told Zeb your real name, so let’s just avoid giving him a real reason to distrust you, especially not now.

“My name? It’s, Glass.”

“Glass, what?”

“Just Glass. I haven’t chosen my last name yet.”

Karvik starts chuckling, “Heh, right. Forgot that was a Gnomanyan thing. You lot really have the strangest names. Reminds me of a time when we were transferring Gnomanyan war prisoners and processing them for our ‘War Reparations Program’”.

“Our captain, Loxlandym, is the toughest Ceveran you’ll ever meet. Scars over his face and all; he’s a serial duelist. We call him ‘The Butcher.’

So there he was, going down the line of prisoners, and he got to this nasty looking cat. Just as tall too. Captain asks him for his name, –mind you we didn’t know nothin’ about your names at the time, and that mean lookin’ son-of-a-bitch just glares into the captain’s eyes and says…

“SAND CASTLE.”

“Had Loxlandym fuming!”

Suddenly you hear clicking from the engine behind you.