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http://comm-npc.livejournal.com/ (
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river_meimei
2007-08-23 04:43 am (UTC)
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His eyes search her face, and then dart away. He hauls the fetid blanket up around his shoulders, hunching into it, his urgency and concern both forgotten.
"Getting dark," he mumbles. "Oatmeal boxes."
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no subject
"Getting dark," he mumbles. "Oatmeal boxes."