[Cards] Greenthumb Whittler (Patreon)

Golems always confused him. Living constructs that could walk, talk, and act just like the rest of humanity, but were forged by metal and magic. Where was the soul? Where was the magnificent random factor?

He pondered this each night as he watched the metallic construct sit and whittle by the camp firelight. After a week, it was too much.

"Why do you do that?" the man snapped. It sounded like an accusation.

The golem lifted its head and looked back at him with steady, unblinking eyes.

"I make fun," it said, and opened its metal hand. Inside was a small wooden butterfly, slowly flapping its wings.

The man never asked those questions again.