[At last. Peaceful, mostly sunny. No sign of the moon, or masks, or costumes.
...And Nephry is moving through the plaza at the pace and with the general stiff gait of an old woman.
Fitting, she thinks.
Near the fountain she sits on a bench, opening the journal on her lap. She's never been one to make announcements too personal, or to call unnecessary
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[ She sounds rather surprised. Of course she knows that on the North and South pole it snows a lot too, but to actually hear that from someone.. ]
Don't you get cold?
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[Also her year in her home is 760-ish days long.]
May I presume it doesn't work that way for you?
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[ she laughs. ]
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In the middle of the ice and everything?!
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