azontr
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"........." Demiólke listened to Basil and Neltharion, and then let out a sigh. She fell to the grass, crossed her legs, and rested her cheek in her marred, crimson palm, seeming defeated at this point. "...F*ck it. We'll take an hour or two to rest, max. The bird or whoever the hell wants to go can go ask that whale whatever they want during that, even though it just talks in static... after that, I don't care what you say, I'm leaving. With or without you."