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. . . . . . . {..lightly i tred the earth, keen ooids scanning the loam. i see none worth my time, yet. hmm. not a sound is uttered, for mute i remain. for why would i be insane enough to converse with myself? but still i continue into the cadre, even though a light mist filled the air, and mine optics could still see, yet with a blurry tint to it. my banner wavers behind me, helping me keep my balance. my vocals do not bellow out a note though, for why draw attention to myself? those whom do such things are louts. all o' them. ah, but even i act quite a fool myself at times, so whom am i to talk? anyway, where is that damned king, or the sayyidah who rules this harem with him? luckily, i'm full o' patience..} . . . . . . . . |