It's beautiful, isn't it?
[ There's a young man standing in a grassy hill next to the city pier, staring out into the vast stretch of blue with the seal in his hand. But perhaps a passerby wouldn't notice him at first, hidden amidst the white wings of
the creature beside him. ]For a moment I find myself forgetting my destination, forgetting where
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She chooses, for the moment, not to remark on the giant bird.]]
Forgetting the destination is the same as being lost ... but then, you're right. You're a traveler as well?
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I am not a 'traveler,' but I am indeed on a journey.
If you are one, perhaps you can tell me the way back to my intended path.
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It could be a blessing in itself, losing our way in a place like this.
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[[She hadn't decided where she was going next anyway.]]
If you don't mind me asking, what kind of place were you going to?
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