Acorna isn't sure what to make of this. She looks around the sorting room - strange and austere, but even without the purifying effect of her horn, the air is clean and safe if a little musty, and she doesn't see any immediate danger - and turns back to the door she came in through, which looks nothing like any hatch ever installed on the Condor.
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"What in the hell are you?" she asked in her ruined voice, deciding to get that out of the way first and foremost.
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Her eyes turned flinty, and her already unpleasant voice became harsher. "So what kind of a relationship do your people have with regular humans?"
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"The second time... we, my adoptive 'uncles' and I, managed to locate and contact the Linyaari only months before the second Khleevi assault," she continues, and quickly corrects herself, "Or rather, they found us; we were headed in the right direction when a Linyaari vessel came with a warning that the Khleevi were on the move and headed ( ... )
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She straightened, jutting her chin out defiantly. "It sounds like you did well. I haven't been here long, but from what I've heard, Gryffindor might be where you should go. It's supposed to be a house for the brave. Don't ask me what the questions have to do with it; I haven't the faintest clue."
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