[Moro's voice clicks over the journals, in what is obviously an unintentional post. Moro seems to be in the middle of musing to herself, even.]
...no matter how many times we take their lives, they take more and more.
The forests can't handle this... a single demon can be met by my fangs, but these humans are a greater plague than nature can
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[Moro is well aware of San listening in on her.]
...This forest... this tiny, weak forest... even it can cry out to me...
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...What does it say?
[hey Moro. Smell your daughter's blood on her fur?]
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It's like the babbling of a child... the cries of woe, of fear...
Like a weak, starved child whimpering.
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With this many humans here, it is suicide to fight. [but nothing in her voice at all denies that she will fight.]
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Even if we die, the Malnosso insult nature by returning us.
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[bit of a failure for not being able to do that, though]
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[She will fucking help next time.]
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[her nose isn't nearly as good as Moro's but this one was weird-looking, too]
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[It is a nice thing to have again.]
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[She has a feeling she's overdue :(]
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