She heard the shot from a distance off, after she had run away. It shattered the still air with a bang!, and to Ilse, it felt that the universe itself had been shaken. She shuddered, but kept running
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There's a teenage boy around - he's 70 years old, really, but he looks 16 going on 17, and fairly bohemian himself. His pointy ears are almost visible under the blond hair, and he's looking about, fretfully. When he sees Ilse, he says hello, smiling a little, shyly.
She looks up. "Oh! Hello!" she says as brightly as possible. She really doesn't want to bother anyone with her troubles--after all, no one listened to them back home.
He smiles a bit at her, pausing in his stride. He's probably walking back inside from a training session with Aaron, and might be sporting a blunted sword because of it.
"Oh. I understand. I'm sorry." He stops, and bows, very politely. "This is the Mansion. I came here by foot, but people come here in many different ways."
"Hi."
The typist isn't sure which of the twins this is.
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"Are you alright?"
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"Yes, I suppose I am. Just wondering how I got here, that's all."
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If she can keep this up, this pretending everything's okay, she can make it, she thinks.
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