[ repeated. impossible to divine where blood slopes for blood. takes after his father, the old joke, but it's his uncle's nose; his mother's high bones, grandfather's hair. stretched a little broad, set a little square.
perhaps, in some dismal southern castle, he'd spy another byerly.
cedric drops the stare, at last, to write. ink spots, spreads beyond the edge of a rune. ]
no subject
[ repeated. impossible to divine where blood slopes for blood. takes after his father, the old joke, but it's his uncle's nose; his mother's high bones, grandfather's hair. stretched a little broad, set a little square.
perhaps, in some dismal southern castle, he'd spy another byerly.
cedric drops the stare, at last, to write. ink spots, spreads beyond the edge of a rune. ]
And I'm not bringing them back there.