Sawtooth Spire It was the 14th of October, had that T-shirt off your shoulder
ᴀ ᴠᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴏғ ғᴀɪʀʏ ᴛᴀʟᴇs
sᴍᴀsʜᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ
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Ooc — lyra
Away
#2
to assume makes an ass out of u and me, mother. 
the cygnet had first been napping while wylla went about the rote task of bathing her firstborn under the slant of warm sunlight, but by the time thade was replaced and phaedra was due for a wash, her mother would reach back to discover her daughter was not, as expected, within reach. 

rather, the child had retired to the rolling sea of pelts and cast of shadow. she arranged herself under the tan-flecked pelage of a hare—though her dipstick of a tail stuck out and would no doubt give her position away. she hadn't hid on purpose! finding herself sepulchered in the furs was a convenience served by coincidence.
this to her felt like being pinned under wylla’s armpit anyway, despite smelling significantly more pleasant.
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