[ there is something about being in this strange little self-contained world that is filled with the sound of birdsong that is making him ... uncomfortable. bad memories, maybe. but it's alright. she's dead.
looking up and squinting at this. is this patrol. ]
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looking up and squinting at this. is this patrol. ]
I see.
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Anyways, his head tilts, the birds quietening curiously before they softly chirp again. ]
Is there something you need?
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I'm listening.
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Do you trust them?
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