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White Sandy Climber
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You decide to man up and face the horrible, horrible rage of a twelve-year-old girl-- but your sister doesn't look very angry at all, anymore.
"Did you see them, when we left," she mumbles, rocking a little in her seat. "All those women in the streets... all the children, just, dead."
"Of course," you reply. There was the thing you didn't want to think about.
There's a dreary silence between the two of you. That hug sounds better than ever, and you consider it, but Sybil interrupts. "Look, I know you won't like this. You don't like them, but--"
"No," you interrupt before she can continue. You feel rude for doing so, but you don't even want to consider it. "The people in the castles live in there for a reason. They don't want us dirty poor folk getting our grubby fingers on their money."
Sybil looks at you and frowns harshly, and for that moment, she reminds you a little of your mother. "We don't have any money, Varic. We need help. Even if whoever's in that keep won't give us anything, it's not going to hurt to explain our damn situation."
Stubborn as a bull, you don't like the idea at all, but a quick glance around you reveals that the villagers don't look all that starved. Maybe it's worth a try-- you don't like it, either way.
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