He couldn't help but wonder if the real thing would still avoid him. It was true that he was no longer the monster he once was, but surely such horrific actions would leave a stain upon the soul...and upon the heart he had been so intent on pretending wasn't slowly developing within him. Not to mention the fact that he had chosen to remain in the Twilight, accepting his own inner darkness and tempering it with the light, rather than rejecting it utterly as his fellows were trying so hard to do. He was the furthest thing from pure.

The moogle, still running on a pre-programmed personality, didn't reflect Even's thoughts. It giggled, before shouting about that tickling, followed by that same strange 'kupo' noise.

Even sighed and shook his head. "The humans of your world must be quite weak of heart. And so you had hoped I might be something akin to an elf, based upon my ears, and familiar with your struggles?"