After the radio broadcast, Cecil did as he'd promised and came back to his room and hugged Foucault a lot. And fed him; he was about the size of a really large turkey now, and his adult feathers hadn't even started coming in yet
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Cecil finished one round of chanting and hurried to open the door. "Anna! Hi." He checked she wasn't being followed, then ushered her in. "Oh! Just a second." He pulled one of the chairs out and cleaned things off of it for her to sit down.
There seemed to be some magic at work here, but it didn't seem to be directly targeting spirits so Anna just sort of ignored it and came on in. "I heard the radio broadcast," Anna began as she sat down, "and I was just wondering what you think is going to happen to the homecoming court. Besides crowns."
Cecil took a deep breath and shrugged. "Well, hopefully nothing? There's some years we manage that. Back home, I mean. But the class of 91 had a 65 percent fatality rate, plus another 20 percent went mad. And back in 79, they had no survivors."
School weapons training had had really good attendance for the next few years.
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School weapons training had had really good attendance for the next few years.
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