[ there's a letter in his bag: hello, my name is cedric, and my mother was ostara. another, on the desk, ink-spotted where grammar slips. where something else does. he is trying to put it in place,
the bones of his hand flex clean. whole. nothing's changed, not really, but there's a letter in his bag and a hole in his story; and hard as he works, the shape won't hold. he is trying. the inn bustles, a jumble of noise all to say the crystal hasn't shut off. it's a while before he speaks, and when he does, the words are thick. a little hoarse: ]
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the bones of his hand flex clean. whole. nothing's changed, not really, but there's a letter in his bag and a hole in his story; and hard as he works, the shape won't hold. he is trying. the inn bustles, a jumble of noise all to say the crystal hasn't shut off. it's a while before he speaks, and when he does, the words are thick. a little hoarse: ]
Thank you.
[ and very small. ]