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“I’m a mythozoologist.”

“You mean a cryptozoologist?”

The Professor squinted at her. “No, a mythozoologist.”

“What’s the difference?”

Sighing, the Professor tugged at his mustache. “A cryptozoologist is someone who studies and seeks the existence of cryptids, like the Loch Ness monster and the Chupacabra. Sasquatch, you know, creatures people are always seeing but taking very bad photos of.”

“And a mythozoologist?”

“Mythozoologists like myself study mythical beasts. We try to understand their biology and their function as enduring and repeating creatures in the fictional record.” The Professor leaned towards her, his eyes flashing. “Why do unicorns keep cropping up? Why do dragons have so many incarnations in the literature of the world? Why do we have wizards in stories and not in our everyday lives? What is the purpose of legendary beasts? Why do we fiddle with gods but deny these beasts their due as creatures of influence?”

She felt like he expected an answer. “I-I don’t know. To inspire?”

He blinked at her. Grumbling under his breath, he wandered off into his dusty library and left her alone with her questions.

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