[ Sheryl is sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, holding a mug of tea. Sigurd, a swan, is nestled next to her in his own nest of pillows, neck draped over her knees. The television seems to be on somewhere in the background, but neither of them are paying attention ]
...I wish you wouldn't go.
[ he cocks his head, fixing her with one eye ]
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the huge lump she shares the apartment with might be watching from the door.
and it's not kamina either. think more along the lines of irish wolfhound.]
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I don't want Yue to go either.
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