[Katherine is going about the simple, mundane task of sorting wool into separate colors, a job one of her ladies would have likely done for her back home. She recites an old poem as she works:]A palm tree stands in the midst of Rusafa
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Would that the sheep had been so accommodating, Majesty. I've not yet begun to sort mine.
Bubbles has found quite a number of sheep, as you know. Not all of them have yet been shorn.
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Do you suppose our menfolk are willing for the task?
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I would hope they were, Majesty. It would be to their benefit in the end, after all.
[She turns from the camera a moment.]
Tybalt? Cos? Might I beg a favor?
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I like it.
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Do you want any.
[SOMEONE WILL EVENTUALLY SAY YES.]
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I would be grateful for wool, of course. You are a shepherdess?
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No, but Castiel is.
[Somewhat irritably -- and Rei tilts her PCD to show, literally, a sea of rainbow sheep outside of her window.
They have not left.]
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... Ever.]
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I will set them aside, for that time.
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I don't plan to wear jester's clothes.
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Perhaps. Perhaps for a pageant. The story of Joseph would be well-suited.
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