"Magic can only do so much, apparently," Rat says, more thoughtfully than bothered by it. "When the city turned me into a child, the injuries on my back were still fresh." The transformation back into himself had gone back to the old formation of scars, hadn't taken into account a week of easy safety and medical care that might have reduced them if he'd grown naturally.

It was a cloth laid over a statue. The shape stayed the same.

"Would you prefer me without them?"