[Today there is a Liberator dragging his sorry self back into the village, and cursing the Malnosso for dumping him on the opposite end of the village from his destination. He doesn't look too bad for returning from a kidnapping, although he's bruised his lip somehow and his white shirt appears to be stuck to his chest by little spots of dried
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Sigmund.
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But. Awkward shifting. Can he have a hug goodnight, since no one's here to see him be a big fussy mama's boy?]
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Svala smiles, stands and leans over to draw Sigmund's head to her shoulder, arms gently encircling his neck and shoulders. She lifts a hand to stroke his hair.]
There are no words powerful enough to express my relief. [So here, have some relieved soul-y goodness as she smooths your hair.]
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I apologize for worrying you.
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I only ask you look after yourself properly.
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[Excusing himself with a- no, bowing to her feels wrong now. A respectful and affectionate nod, that'll do.]
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Is there ever a time in her life you don't worry her to death?]
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