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2017-04-15 01:27 am (UTC)
Already too many regrets.
[Ugh- there it is again. Washing like some ill tide through his stomach and weighing down on him heavy as the ocean is all that misery again. Of course he couldn't keep it at bay for long. He never can. So he tries to curl up in the branches, wings tugging at the branches in an attempt to curl around him. He presses at his face, miserable.]
[It's looking like there's a good chance that he's just going to make this needlessly difficult when, out of nowhere, he mutters something.]
There's those.... the mush things. Spirit buggers. Right?
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