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The Princess of Storms is having a ball tonight. She's painted clouds across the western sky.
As the light fades, the collars on the cats visiting the barracks - and the collars on the wrists of those who chose to put them on - start to glow. The transition between the freezing, crumbling barracks and the opulence of a castle's interior is almost unnoticeable. One moment they're in the barracks. The next, they'll find themselves in large ( Read more... )