Your world has alcohol and you didn't treat me to any?!

I wasn't deaf enough to hear the hostility in the dryad's voice. And if she was speaking with a certain dose of superiority while talking to Madam, then she now talked as if she was somewhat forced to talk to a mere bug crawling at her feet. 

And given how she was a dryad, not just some random and possibly nature-beneficial bug, but a damn parasite that spoiled the plants whenever it appeared. 

'Ugh, assuming humans of this world are anything like humans of earth, then I can hardly fault her for this,' I thought, recalling how the problem of mass cutting the green lungs of the earth continued for years, only growing more profound when the new cold war put a huge dent in the volume of global trade. 

But as little as I cared for the Dryad's attitude and as much as I could excuse it… If I were to admit to being just a parasite that she took me for, how could I ever ask her a single damn question?