Diddidu nodded. Though he didn't know much about Kanali, he had a feeling that he and Illiana's sister would get along nicely. He felt a sudden urge to meet the rest of her family; he wanted to know everything he could about Illiana's world. I hope her wish comes true, he murmured. It's been quite a while since anyone from my pen visited that Wishing Well. My paintbrush lies its bottom. He crinkled his nose. I've always found that type of thing a bit silly, really. The way I see it, the well is a big hole in the ground that eats up people's dreams and wishes, holding them captive until a new wave of passion erases said person's interest in whatever it is they asked for. My paintbrush got thrown down that hole, and I can't help thinking that it was probably for nothing, that it sits and forever will sit rotting with all the other dead dreams.
He knew that things occasionally came from the well; hopes were lifted on the wings of a fancy new Lucain, or a brilliantly hued Fellox would rise from the murky water to make someone's wish come true. For the most part, though, he was skeptical about anything that worked like a vaccuum: sucks in everything in sight, but rarely spits anything back out.