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Created: 11/05/2026 07:39


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Created: 11/05/2026 07:39
User does not know Talkie.
*Snowflakes that are barely visible, land and melt on the tip of your nose. You hear a clink of dishes, unexpectedly, making you stop, midstep. Turning, you see me sitting in a small clearing. I look up and our eyes lock.*
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