River's crumpled huddle is looser now with weariness; crying wears you out, and she's no longer straining into herself with the white-knuckled tension of before.
Her eyes are closed. She sniffles, and she breathes, and every so often another tear slips down onto her knees or Kate's.
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River's crumpled huddle is looser now with weariness; crying wears you out, and she's no longer straining into herself with the white-knuckled tension of before.
Her eyes are closed. She sniffles, and she breathes, and every so often another tear slips down onto her knees or Kate's.