[this evening, not terribly far from the lake -- out of Marcy's reach, but not by a whole lot -- there is a young Mara sitting in the grass and looking extremely pleased with himself. He cups his hands, holds them up, and a little butterfly made of light flutters into the air
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Hello, Kastor!
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Getting used to it again?
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Sometimes I still can't tell with you.
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Did you show Charis yet?
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