Sharp Tongue is hunched over a patch of paving in the city, painting the ground with a brownish paste using her hand claws. Her eyes are bloodshot and her movements jerky. Symbols, shapes, things that may or may not have meaning. Something that could be a serpent, a man, a raptor, all figures delineated in messy smears. Swirls and slashes and spots
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Comments 25
"What are you doing?"
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"I must mark it before I forget it."
"I do not yet know what it means."
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"What in- are you painting?"
Loren was, apparently, not a very sane person.
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"Yes," she says curtly, almost snappishly, "I am."
Almost done almost done almost dooonnnee...
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She squats on her heels in front of her, looking for signs of a too deep trance. She smells no flinty cinnamon, but remembers the compounds and tools of the 'raptor sayyadina's apprentice.
Instead she waits, saying nothing, merely checking to see if Sharp Tongue is responsive to her.
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She's working!
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"I was curious...And I wanted to be sure you hadn't entered a too deep trance."
The figures aren't familiar to her but the ritual content is obvious.
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Scrabble scrabble scrabble.
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