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"You'll want to wait, I suspect." remarked Saeryn very quietly, flushing crimson as she spoke. "Linduial is leaving this morning and I expect that Degas is indulging in a childish, or at least less than adult, though certainly without speaking of being a hooligan, desire to see a pretty lady off."
Embarassed at her lack of control, though thanking whoever could hear her thoughts that she'd had the ability to speak quietly, even though she couldn't seem to avoid speaking pettily, Saeryn fled with Trystan.
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