Marcello laughed. "Well, the wind all blows in the same direction," he said. "It's not chaotic. I think chaos needs a person behind it. Or an animal. Or a god. Something with a will of its own."

"The thing is, the wind moves all around, whipping back and forth. It's really hard to get a hold on. But the grass all bends the same way. And grass I can understand. So I figured that maybe if I understand the grass, I can understand the wind if that makes sense." He paused a moment, frowning to himself. "I'm not sure it does makes sense though, but it might! I won't know until i try it, sometimes it really helps thinking backwards. Are the eggs alright?"

Marcello nodded. "We only broke two," he said. "The rest will be all right. Just don't tell the chickens?" he asked the boy with a sly smile. "And that does make sense. The grass will show you the direction that the wind is moving the strongest."

Maalech nodded vigorously "It's like an average of all the little winds. And I really wants to understand how the wind works, because it's horrible and cold, and the weather here will be much colder they say. I don't want to be this cold... so I'm taking steps." He nodded, so very serious about the fact that he had in essence just declared war against mother nature.

Now Marcello laughed. "I forgot you're from a warm climate," he said. "You know, when I moved from Italy to England, I felt the same?" he said. "It was cold all the time, I was miserable. But what is interesting is that if you are in a cold place long enough, your body will adjust. You won't feel so cold after a while."

"Really? Will I get a winter coat just like Meg told me the ponies got? Is that why you're so hairy?" Maalech seemed partly excited, partly horrified at the thought of bodyhair.

Marcello laughed aloud at that. "No, I'm hairy because I'm Italian, and Italian men have hair. It's not...no, you won't grow a coat. You'll stay the same, but your...your body will adjust. It will change the way you feel heat and cold. So it's more like growing an invisible coat."

"It will change the way I feel..." Maalech touched his fingertips to his nose, as if he wished that his body would hurry up and get that over with right away. "it's funny really, that there are so many breeds of people just like there are breeds of dogs. I never thought that would be the case, there were only the right ones and the wrong ones when i grew up, and then the ones kinda caught in the middle like me. We don't travel so much as some people do I suppose... or maybe more people look like each other where I come from."

"No, I think it's the traveling," Marcello replied. "When you-- when a baby is born, he gets half of what he looks like from his mother, and half from his father, right? So if you live in the same town long enough, with the same people, it makes sense that everyone would look alike. Because somewhere they must be related. So I'm...I'm actually half-Italian and half-English. I'm lighter than an Italian but darker than an Englishman. I have green eyes, which are English, and black hair, which is Italian. Like that."

"Like my eyes" Maalech pointed out, looking as severe as he always did when he spoke of his heritage. "I know there's probably other halfbreeds, but if you don't have the eyes it's harder to spot I suppose. If someone is a little bit lighter, that's not a big thing."