[the mirror shows the odd, mismatched house by the lake. There's now a small garden out back, though it wasn't created with magic dirt, but by plain old physical labor. Of course, that's kind of hard to tell by looking at it
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[Quiet over here, just the soft murmur of her own little prayers--(an end of sunlight, to a birth of infinity, on branch and wing, rain and soil, by all spirits now and then)--but then there's Dejana to talk to.]
Little late warning the vine, already set the little bird to tears.
[She inhales in deeply. It was a thing all wardens went through, feeling death. Used to make her cry in pain every time someone shot a deer in the forest, but over time the sensation has gotten less intense. The wardens didn't like to consider themselves numb to death, but they also couldn't remain crippled by the death of every bug either.]
Little late warning the vine, already set the little bird to tears.
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...how many?
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A few dead, two on the vine so far.
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[her expression softens slightly.]
Will you be all right, dear?
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I'm a tough old bird. Though, this is a hell of a prelude.
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[That's what the augur was for.]
Just gotta roll with the punches.
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[She reaches up to press sweat-dampened hair out of her face.]
You can send anyone hurt my way.
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Though, perhaps...this was for them, in a way. The dead have already passed on. It is those who remain that mourn.
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Get yourself a nap, we'll still be here needing you when you get up.
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