The wealth of the sea at our fingertips.

POSTED: Wed Oct 05, 2011 10:07 pm

Word Count :: 500+ All welcome! This is for the dock & boat building portion of the scouting party project. Liliya is on her way to earning the Pescador co-rank!

Had it really been so many weeks since the day the Dark Lady found her and her mother and brought the two to Salsoa? Liliya sat down on the wood pile and rested for a moment while she counted the weeks on her fingers and thought. She hunched forward, elbows propped on her knees with her eyes trained on her hands as she breathed heavily, panting to cool herself down. She had just returned to Salsoa dragging a load of wood that she salvaged from the shores past the borders, the place that she knew the remains of her modest boat had been brought ashore and stored. The chore had taken her all morning and well into the afternoon, and now the unfiltered sun glared down on her from above. Even though the furious summer had given way to the more temperate weather of fall, this afternoon was still quite sultry. Still, there was a project to be done for her pack, and she had just the right amount of willpower and determination to do it.

But did she have the tools and the resources? Her eyes scanned the woodpile beneath and all around her. Planks and staves were the extent of what she had gathered, and as her eyes moved to the shore she sighed. “Is no good. Is no good at all,” she groaned mournfully. All this work and there was still no wood formidable enough to hold up the structure that the pack needed. That would require some real, thick, sturdy poles, and she didn’t know where she could find anything like that.

“Bah,” she untied the red bandana that held her hair back, running her fingers through her tresses. The poles didn’t have to go too deep; after all, this was a bay and the waves were gentle here, the tide not as strong, but even so, even if she could find them, it would take a lot of manpower to get the poles grounded. She retied the bandana as she stood up, pacing back and forth as she contemplated the project.

“Vould be best to have horse pull poles here. In fact,” she looked at the wood pile. “Vhould be nice to have horse pull cart for wood, but is no cart. Vhat good is horse with no cart! Is garbage! Is coat! That is vhat horse good for. Warm clothink.” She muttered to herself in irritation as she paced, thinking about the tanned animal in the stables. She had learned that Trader was a docile, sturdy gelding trained to haul but she could not find a cart anywhere in Salsoa.

“Might as well use boat wood to build cart to build dock to build boat for. Is stupid!” She kicked the pile and a stack of mossy two-by-fours toppled over. Pain shot up her foot at the shock and she bent over, grabbing her foot and befouling the air with a string of Russian curses. If anyone was nearby they might think that a proper sailor was right around the corner.

Image courtesy of mnshots@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

POSTED: Mon Oct 10, 2011 2:41 am

o hayyyyy cass is a grumpy grump. :P

Cassius wasn't the one to have something to prove to anyone, but by now he definitely had some spunk left in him that made him feel like giving the bastards that decided to make him their pet a real fight. He was a real Southerner, he didn't like taking crap from anyone, a real cowboy. Well, Cass didn't really touch horses, but he still had a wild spirit that was very hard to break, not unlike a stallion. He was making sure the Salsolans were getting their money's worth out of him, he was sure as hell going to make it a real ride.

The disgusting ring they put in his nose bothered the hell out of him, but it was too tender to pull out. If he had, they probably would have put it back in, most likely eager to cause him more pain. They took all but the clothes on his back, even though they hardly wore any themselves. Cass thought of them as feral, however ironic the thought really was. Slavery was definitely against his own beliefs, but he did have time to read about them in the run down libraries he had come across before. So far, they were definitely different than the old American Slavers, but they could be a whole new breed altogether. Cassius couldn't be sure, he hardly knew anything about their culture outside of the basic "slave rules" he was being "taught".

He was allowed to wander now though, which he didn't mind. He liked having at least some of his freedom back, after being secluded in the village the pack had claimed. Cass was literally wandering mindlessly around, taking care to not stray too far from the center of the packlands. He dragged his feet as he strolled in the sun, a really lackluster and ragged appearance about him. His white shirt was tattered and let his chocolate colored fur show through in patches, his black shorts scuffed and covered in dirt. He sang in his clear, proud voice, heavy with the Southern "twang" prevalent in those native to his region of the States.

"Not even fifteen minutes later after walkin' down the street, when I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight. And then he swept up from behind, he put a gun up to my head, he made it clear he wasn't lookin' for a fight. He said give me all you've got, I want your money not your life, if you try to make a move I won't think twice. I told him you can have my cash but first you know I gotta ask, what made you wanna live this kind of life?

He said there ain't no rest for the wicked, Money don't grow on trees,
I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain't nothin' in this world for free
I know I can't slow down, I can't hold back, though you know I wish I could,
Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good."

While singing the small set of lyrics, he noticed the voice of a woman, thick with an accent somewhat familiar to him, swearing up a storm by the docks. Scoffing a laugh, he decided that he could use some entertainment and headed over to the docks to find the source of the voice, talking to piles of wood and making an absolute ruckus. Cassius said nothing, although he was entertained by the lack of "femininity" about the wolf.

Word Count: 500+

POSTED: Mon Oct 10, 2011 8:08 pm

Word Count :: 300+ Welcome! OMG I’m so happy you replied. I was dying to get this moving! <3 <3

The might of her verbal sinning drowned out the sound of the singing slave so she did not notice when he approached the area. Her anger had done nothing for her, only served to make her do something rash and now she had a steady ache in her foot as reward. She rubbed the sore spot thoroughly before setting her foot-paw back into the sand and standing straight, her voice finally dying down. She surveyed the wood pile, a hand moving to her chin as though swallowed her whole. It wasn’t until there was a resounding squawk from a nearby crow that she realized she wasn’t alone anymore.

The Russian turned to curse at the crow for breaking her concentration, and that is when she saw the coy-wolf standing there. Her gray gaze surveyed him and she wondered just how long he’d been standing there. She didn’t know him – big surprise – but quickly identified his rank thanks to the clear marker her pack uses for every slave. She stood a little straighter, raising her eyebrows.

“Vhat are you lookink at?” she asked, her voice dripping with the thick Russian accent. Was that amusement on his face? Liliya wasn’t very supportive of her pack’s enslavement of innocent people (especially since her own mother had become one herself) but enough time spent with the right crowd can begin to affect anyone’s way of thinking. It was clear that Liliya was starting to adopt a more true Salsoan mindset when her eyes narrowed at the insult… Is a slave laughing at me?

She began to say something about it then stopped. The man wasn’t laughing at her… though he did seem rather entertained at her expense… and she didn’t know this slave – she once experienced first hand what happened when you mouthed off to a slave you didn’t know (it turned out to belong to a very important individual) and she didn’t want a repeat performance. She took a breath, cooling the fire in her core.

“Vhat is your name, boy?” She knew he wasn’t a boy - in fact it was likely that he was older than her – but she was still quite annoyed at having been snuck up on. Still, second to a horse this might be the best thing that could have come along. "Who do you belongk to?"

Image courtesy of mnshots@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

POSTED: Sat Oct 22, 2011 8:56 pm

grr i suck and get distracted by school/life/other crap

It was entertaining how the wolf earned her (wavering) confidence when she saw him, branded with the stupid ring adorning his nose and his rather lackluster nature. She asked what he was looking at, and by all means Cass was overjoyed to oblige. "Well, I'd be figurin' tha' yer th' o'ly thang t'look at 'round 'ere," he told her, his voice laden with sarcasm and a matter-of-factly tone. He went ahead and approached her on the docks, never taking into account the slave rules that were laid down to him by the black woman with the spiral scar. His padded feet touched the wood of the dock and he slowly made his way down.

She asked him another question, to which Cass snorted softly. "I ain' no boy," he assured her with a hidden snarl. "My name is Cassius Clay Arphralos," he started, as if he was a huge deal everywhere. "And I ain' belong to nobody." He meant that in both senses: that he wasn't in fact owned by an individual person in Salsola, and that he truly believed he didn't belong to Salsola itself. He was a free spirit, he believed.

He moved even closer to her, a hard look to his face. "I done noticed y'all look like yer havin' some troubles, so I took it 'pon myself t'investigate." He looked to the wood pile beside her, having saw her attempt to take out some frustration on it -- although failed. "Looks like I was right. Y'all need some help, holler. I'd be happy to oblige," he hissed through his teeth, wandering back away from the woman, sure she would probably make him help anyway, if not he'd probably get punished in some way. Cassius hardly cared, slavery in itself was some sort of cruel punishment forced on him anyway.

Word Count: 300+

POSTED: Mon Oct 24, 2011 5:10 am

Words: 1004

hi random monster post; nothing to see here move along. actually the first like five paragraphs here can be skipped. \: nothing happens / no interaction / not important to replying, so yah.

Khirot was petite and seemed weak at first glance; upon closer inspection, the labor-hardened muscle beneath his surprisingly well-kept coat became apparent, and his apparent weakness was betrayed. Better, he was obedient -- marvelously so. Eris initiated Khirot into Salsola, and he had adapted to it quickly. The dark woman needed hardly issue a command and Khirot had completed the request; occasionally, he would anticipate her needs. The Auxiliary had taken to calling him Khi and feeding him choice scraps of her own meals, occasionally making a show of extravagance before other slaves. They would observe obedience's rewards and absorb it better, no doubt.

He followed meekly at her heels now. His ears were half-mast, as they generally were, and his gaze was glued to the earth, lifting only when absolutely necessary. Truthfully, Eris did not need to keep him anymore -- she might release him to Salsola's territory unimpeded. There was a minor need for improvement in Khi's English, however, and Eris also enjoyed his company and subservience. He was almost better than Molcaxitl. Certainly, Axi only held experience over Khi; Eris's personal slave was used to The Auxiliary's method of rule and desires. Given time, however, there Khirot would surpass Molca, too. It was quite the shame Khi's skills were quite so needed by the pack.

The hybrid meandered along the shoreline, enjoying the cool October bite of the wind against her flesh. It cut through even her thick fur, and Khirot shivered beside her, teeth chattering quietly. She paused a moment, looking toward him with a frown. Oh, Khirot, your fur is not made for the cold. You need clothes for this weather, she said, chiding as if Khirot's fur were a choice of his own. There was a playful smile on her face, however, and the slave slowly nodded his acceptance of the idea, as always. There was a restrainted hint of genuine gratefulness in his gaze.

Meetre give Khirot, Khirot forever know Meetre kind, the slave answered. His tone was mechanical, no hint of frustration at the new, strange tongue forced upon him. Eris had commanded him to respond to her every direct comment, question, or order with English so the hybrid might better his communication; this was her only guise of keeping him for any longer amount of time. She cooed her approval of the improving English, and merely grinned, turning back toward the coast and her walk so he would not respond again.

Though the day was breezy, it was certainly not bitterly cold, and Eris thought it was rather mild; Khirot was clearly accustomed far warmer climes. His comfort hardly concerned her, however; there was work to be done. The Auxiliary would provide assistance; there was no sense in her helping to plan or doing heavy labor. She was unsuited for either, but her subleader's position avoided her the luxury of sidestepping duty. For right now, Eris had planned only to scout the coast closest to the Borgata Mayate for suitable dock landing; she had not thought to begin working today.

The Auxiliary, however, soon became aware of a second party on the beach -- a harsh voice she remembered quite well, the unmistakable accent of Liliya Russo, and one she also knew rather well. Concerned, she stepped forward at a faster pace, Khirot keeping right behind her. She whispered for his quiet and the light chatter of his teeth ceased immediately, his footfalls becoming rustling whispers against the grass. She leaned forward and cocked an ear, still creeping forward through the autumn-tall grass, through copses of stunted trees, and between hulking erratics and smaller stones.

The voice displeased her, the tone more so, the words more so than anything. She knew this one well, and loathed her time working with him. The old man did not have much concept of slavery -- he didn't seem to know his place at all, and this displeased the sable Auxiliary mightily. Such displeasure showed openly on her face, the miserable scowl showing fury. My dear Liliya, she said, addressing the ranked member before either of the slaves as she stepped into open view. The expression of her face did not change, but her voice was strangely placid, even as she turned toward Cassius and tilted her head ever so slightly to the right.

Do you like your tongue in your mouth, slave, or would you like to watch it impaled and spit-roasted? I think Khirot would enjoy such a treat if I asked him to, the hybrid said, her voice still mild. Her tail had arced upward angrily, however, and hackles had risen along her shoulders and spine. Her normally wild hair had been lashed by the wind in every direction on her trek here; even now it was subject to the whim of the breeze. You know to offer help, but you forget -- we don't need you to be able to speak. You belong to Salsola, she added unhappily, deciding the threat would be enough; the best way to deal with slaves was to make such threats and immediately thereafter show only passive indifference to the slave, the threat, and the whole matter.

Khirot still stood meekly by, several steps behind the sable Auxiliary. He watched with curious, entirely indifferent eyes, though they flicked downward as the Eris spoke again. I offer my apology for his manner. He still requires instruction, she said, now clearly addressing the ranked member. It would be within The Associate's right to request punishment, Eris figured, but perhaps a leader's apology might do as well. What were you hoping to accomplish here? she asked, motioning to the pile of wood with one hand before propping her elbow up with the other, rubbing her fingers against her chin. She did not know the first thing about dock-building or any of what they wanted to accomplish; it would be the will and knowledge of her underlings that accomplished this task.

POSTED: Tue Oct 25, 2011 4:28 am

Word Count :: 1092 HA! Sie, I see your 1004 word post and raise you 88! X.x This was purely by tired rambly brain, I assure you. I hope it's not as disjointed as I think it is. And FYI, just so you know Tit, the dock isn’t actually built yet, she’s just now gathered the wood. So they’re on the land by where the dock will be placed. I just wanted to note that because your post made me think you misunderstood and that they’re on the dock. :) Or maybe I misread…

Her storm cloud eyes bulged with surprise at the way the insolent slave talked back to her. Everything she ever felt about the wrongness of slavery suddenly flew out the window. With all the time she spent posturing herself properly for those ranked above her she wasn’t about to let this fool get away with that kind of disrespect. Well, maybe Salsoa did have the right idea when it came down to most of these clowns.  

She was also slightly hindered from her vague yet increasing understanding of the English language. She wasn’t very familiar with phraseology and took words literally most of the time. Her eyes narrowed in a pinch and her lips drew back with distaste, not realizing the semantics behind the slave's words. A drumming pounded in her chest as her body reacted to the contempt she felt for the man, the man who had the very wrong idea about who he was in this pack. She wanted to rip that nose ring right out and then tell them he did it himself so he'd have to suffer through getting it pierced again.

Her fingers curled into fists and she snorted a laugh, “If I vere you I'd think twice about what I say. Stoopid slave does not know his place in pack. Belongk to no one, pah! You belongk to Salsoa, you either belongk to one person or to everyone, and that means you obey to me too!” She straightened her spine, drawing herself up to her full height – which, at 6'2, wasn't necessarily all that tall for a Luperci but at least she wasn't on the short end either.

Slipping around him, she bent down and grabbed a plank that was compact enough to hold in one hand while sturdy enough to make a viable threat. “Now you listen to me,” she commanded. She was so tired of being pushed around that she was finally ready to push back, especially to this slave. Her ego so bruised by it all that she didn't even seem to pause to survey and decide if she could win against this man in a fight. “You vill make up for your disobedience one way or another. You – start sorting this wood,” she motioned to the pile, “or you answer to Salsoa for your disobedience. Use brain if you've got any. Good wood there, okay here, bad over there.” She gestured to each spot in turn; it was at her last hand motion that she saw the dark shadow move nearby.

“No!” She breathed the word to herself and the plank landed heavily on the ground with a thud. A hand flew up to cover her mouth as she watched the Dark Lady emerge from the brush, horror marring her features. Not again! You've done it again! She thought to herself as she felt a cold lump settle in her stomach, and she was sure for a moment that she was going to be sick. She watched the second in command move over to them, barely holding back a pitiful whimper. She'd done this once before when she hadn't realized that there were personal slaves among the pack, too. In fact, as she understood it, the man she angered that day was the madam's mate. Now she had done it to the Dark Lady herself. How could she ever make up for it? She was likely to be made a slave herself at this point...

And then she caught sight of something else... someone else who clearly carried himself as a proper slave should. The man's eyes stayed properly averted from Eris's, but he didn't even raise them to herself. It was another slave. Well, the lady might have many slaves, but perhaps... perhaps...

She dared a glance at the woman's face and nearly moaned with relief when she saw that there was no malice towards her. Whatever had happened, whatever reason the woman was here, it was not to admonish Liliya for lipping off to the slave. She was so happy she thought she might cry. She took a deep, relaxing breath after holding it for so long, and did her best to recover from the scare.

“Madam Eris,” her voice was a little shaky, but she gathered every last bit of her Russian pride and pieced it back together. Again her jaw dropped when she heard the thread to the slave, and again she straightened herself back up – only to stand taller than the bondsmen.

The apology from Eris was more than she ever needed to melt away the last tidbit of fury she felt towards Cassius. In fact, the moment she heard it come from the woman she tried to memorize each note so she could call upon the memory of the honor any time she needed to. She couldn't help a gentle smile of glory, and nodded once gratefully. “Is okay, Madam Eris, is only slave. Is why we stand above - is why they need us - they do not know any better, and some need more lesson time than others.” A few weeks ago she wouldn't believe that she could speak these very words and mean it so sincerely as now, but she could brood on that fact later. The man had proved he wasn't worthy of her sympathy.

Her eyes moved over to the wood pile as Eris drew the subject around to it. She inspected it for a moment, wishing that she had already gotten the wood sorted, but hoping Cassius would 'oblige' and start now so it looked more like a gathering of materials rather than a pile of junk. “Is land paradise in the water there,” she said, motioning with her hand to the island in the distance. “Salsoa is stuck here but does not have to be the way. This vill get us there. This is lumber for dock,” she waved her hand to display the wood. “Is not all dock here, but is start. I vill be needingk a lot more vhere this came from, but is no more, so I vhill have to find it. After dock comes rowboat, and then Salsoa can have island and its wonders, too. But the goingk will be slow, I am only one woman and is big project. But it vhill be done before end of fall I should think.”

A moment of modesty overcame her, “Of course, vhill not be huge dock. But vhill do in a pinch.”

Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

POSTED: Tue Nov 08, 2011 10:27 am

(454) Minor powerplay of touching the Liliy. o___o <3

Liliya appeared strangely mortified at first, a strange look like she had just shit herself passing over the normally pretty face of the coy-hybrid. Eris took this in and noted its strangeness, but made no comment. Even the woman's voice was quieted, lacking some of the blustery enthusiasm Eris had encountered upon first meeting the woman. Both slaves seemed to have fallen into silence, which was good. Eris had not expected anything more or less from either of them -- Khirot's behavior universally pleased her, while Cassius's rarely did. The sable woman stepped forward toward The Associate to signify they were clearly apart from the slaves, grinning broadly as the woman spoke words that rang pleasurably in the dark hybrid's ears. Liliya would come around to all of it yet, perhaps.

She listened earnestly as the other canine explained her proposal. The explanation itself was simply worded, and Eris had no trouble understanding it. Liliya's accent had grown on her quite a bit -- she always enjoyed an exotic hint in the voice, whether it was Cassius's drawl, Tlantli's spice, or even Liliya's gruffness. The coyote nodded several times during the explanation, the pleased look on her face growing steadily as the tawny canine carried on. It will be wonderful, she said, not hesitating for a moment once she was certain Liliya had finished speaking.

And you will have your help -- there is Khirot, and perhaps if Cassius behaves he can help, as well. Darijus is not very good with the physical labor, but he can sort of help, maybe, the hybrid said, wrinkling her nose somewhat at the thought of the crippled slave. He was primarily useful around their ruins, but he might do with some exercise, too. We picked Khirot specially, for his knowledge in these sorts of matters. His English is not very good at all, but he speaks Spanish and Italian, as well as a trader pidgin -- or so we were told, the woman said, glancing toward the smaller hybrid, who was looking curious now that the conversation had turned onto him. He was waiting for a direct command or request, though none came.

And I will help, too! I surely cannot match the strength of your arms, here she reached out to pat the taller woman's shoulder, admiring the knot of muscle she felt beneath, but I will do what I can. She thought a second, and then continued. There are other members who may very well contribute, too. At least, they should, she added, her grin turning devilish. She herself would be present for parts of this project; there would be good reward for assistance with this one, she thought.

POSTED: Tue Nov 15, 2011 12:12 am

Word Count :: 500+

Wonderful… the word rang like music to her ears, and Liliya perked up considerably. A prideful smile crossed her muzzle as her leader started to speak positively of the project she had undertaken. She wanted to do this for herself, and for her pack. And she so dearly hoped that the task would help get her noticed by the royals. Salsoa was family… as the Dark Lady taught her the day she joined… and Liliya was in dire need of that surrogate family more than ever. It was imperative not to let the praise go to her head, though, and she reminded herself that she still had a long road ahead of her yet.

She nodded carefully, her eyes turning to Khirot as Eris motioned toward him. She looked him over, scanning his form and deciding she liked what she saw, even if it was only for the obedience the man willfully portrayed. So much better than some of the insolent slaves. He would probably do a good job with the dock. She nodded gratefully. “I am sure I vhill make good use of him. He does not waste time, this is good. I do not like to waste time.” She shot a glare to the slave that mouthed off to her earlier.

The Dark Lady patted her on the arm, admiring the lean bulk she had built over many seasons of sailing, hunting, and crafting. She was by no means an expert at any of these things, but her constant activity did well for her form. Half a smile quirked her muzzle and once again she felt that jolt of pride from being complimented by a lady of such high esteem.

“Thank you, Lady,” she said with a nod. “Is mostly the sea to thank. Many months of fishing and sailingk, even small ventures, has been good to me. I should hope to continue my affair with the sea… For Salsoa, of course.” Her eyes wandered toward the water again, focusing on the gentle rolling waves. “Is a rich sea, Salsoa is very lucky to have. Somehow, though,” her eyes turned back to Eris, “I do not think it has to do with only luck.”

“Your help would be an honor, but you vhould not have to trouble yourself for me. Still, there vhill be much I vhould like to run by you while I am workingk. Like, where exactly is okay for dock. I am thinkingk it vhill be placed somewhere between there and there,” she pointed to a boulder in the sand (out of the water) and a rooted tree. “If you see how the shore looks there, the sand rakes down gently for a few feet, giving dock solid foundation, and then drops deep suddenly, so there vhill be room for many boats. Vrubatsa? Is good place, you agree?”

“There is one thingk too that could really help this go faster. Findingk supplies takes most of my time. I am sure slaves vhill help very much gettingk them here once they are found. If perhaps you could help get word out that extra building material is needed for dock, especially type that would be useful for boat. Boat material is very hard to find. Best thing to have is old boat to start from.”

Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

POSTED: Tue Nov 22, 2011 3:40 pm


Eris is by me!

Liliya had been a good addition to her Salsola. The dark hybrid knew of her family through Janos, and she liked and trusted Janos amongst the upper echelons of Salsola, after all. It would stand to reason she would find the same strength elsewhere in the Russo clan, and she thought Liliya was already doing quite a lot to prove the dark Auxiliary right.

Neither Khirot nor the poltroon seemed interested in speaking, which Eris found good. It was not good for a slave to interrupt. She trusted Khirot to know this, but Cassius? Not so much. Still, perhaps there was hope for him yet. The compliment Liliya paid her evoked a grin on the dark hybrid's face, but she did not verbally respond. In truth, Eris had not considered the sea when staking Salsola's claim. That it was as bountiful and beautiful as their land claim was an unexpected boon.

The coyote nodded as Liliya spoke, though much of the technical aspect of building this dock went right over her head. The hybrid had no idea why the gently sloping sand was the best place to build, but she trusted Liliya's judgment. At the woman's request, the hybrid gave a more enthusiastic nod, a crooked grin sliding across her sable-hued muzzle. Would an old boat from Halifax work? It would be troublesome to bring all the way from the city, but Salsola has horses for a reason, after all, the coyote said, taking a few steps toward the area where Liliya had indicated they would build. She hunkered down and surveyed the small patch of land, chartreuse eyes trying to discern just what it was about this spot that was so perfect for dock building. She'd never ask, but she would try to figure it out on her own, too.

I will do my best to inform the others, though -- they must know of this project. I've already spoken of it at our previous Last Supper celebration, of course. They should be too eager to help, the hybrid added, straightening up and standing, turning toward Liliya with a smile. Her gaze shifted to Khirot, and she spoke loudly and slowly. What does my Khirot think of this plan? she inquired, her voice saccharine. The slave considered, his eyes flickering over the place Liliya had chosen.

Yes, meetre, good looks. I help, the jackal said, his speech the slow, halting sort of a newcomer to the language. Eris beamed at the slave, her gaze then shifting back to Liliya. He's such a good boy, she purred to the tawny woman.

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