You think not at all. But you speak, you have lips and flesh on them and bite marks too, I wager, from the cold and the sun and your nerves. Very well, let's we treat you as a herald. A messenger. An omen bringer. What news do you have?
[Regina isn't sure to be even more flippant or what. Oh, well, at least she can be somewhat honest.]
I bring what is told to me. Their voices are distant and everything is hazy as if a fog has drifted across my senses. I see nothing, at the moment. I see only what I was asked of me to do.
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[Not cool to torment the Nephilim, who's trying her best to keep her composure, here.]
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...wretched? Of all things?
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[Regina isn't sure to be even more flippant or what. Oh, well, at least she can be somewhat honest.]
I bring what is told to me. Their voices are distant and everything is hazy as if a fog has drifted across my senses. I see nothing, at the moment. I see only what I was asked of me to do.
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An offering is required. They demand it.
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There is only so much an individual can offer...
[You are, after all, speaking to someone who is a firm believer in living sacrifices.]
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