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[Anyone happening to be near the outskirts today might be treated to something of an unusual sight; one of the guardian wolves padding into sight, carrying Eleanor by the scruff of her shirt. Both are soaking wet, and Eleanor bears the unmistakable signs of someone taken for a very rough ride. The watchful wolf lays her small, unconscious
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[glances off to the side thoughtfully]
Perhaps...it's better that way. Mm. [and looking back at North Italy] Do you know what this Queen is like?
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She's really moody! Pretty, but moody. And makes an awful lot of mistakes, now that I think about it.
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tilts head to the side in a somewhat questioning way]
....moody.
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[shrug]
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Our queen. It's different, you know!
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Doesn't change things though, now does it?
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That's really accepting of someone who's been taken away from their home. If you're trying to act tough, don't worry! I can be tough for you.
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staaaaring]
...No. I just don't care. And I don't have a home, so that doesn't matter either.
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What's your name?
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