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【 And yet the winds do whisper, as if carrying a message from mouth to ear. 】
【 Nothing concrete. No intelligible meaning. They may not even be there at all, merely a product of paranoia... 】
【 Yet the dim yellow glow ahead would suggest otherwise. 】
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█████
[ it feels like needles — no, something more subtle. a cold draft — prickling against his nape. he touches it, and as soon as his hand lifts, it ebbs its way back. ]
[ where is this coming from? he’s alone. he /has/ to be. ]
anauel.
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【 That it is. The feeling of being watched never quite leaves. 】
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