“and his claws chipped, and his gown of vines and blue…” — On a Dark, Cold Night at 19:02
“and his claws chipped, and his gown of vines and blue flowers tore, and he pried himself off that rock without another moment's hesitation. And together, they walked. It's a lovely night up here, isn't it? Up here on this roof. I'm not sure how long I've been waiting up here. Sometime, I think. It feels like ages.…”
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