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Princess Moon Cascade
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Delilah pauses and turns this over in her mind, “You really don’t feel cold?”
Litany looks down as snow. Due to some odd fae quirk, or possibly magic, they stand fully supported on the crust of ice. “Not really. My codex determines whether or not I can experience that.” Their hand spreads against the lines of ink on parchment, still singed here and there by the stray lightning bolt. “I do not feel tired, or hungry, or frightened, or angry.” There’s an uncertainty to the angel’s voice, as though some unseen itch was just out of reach.
“Wait, really?” Delilah stops, aghast at the prospect over such loss of autonomy.
“There’s a reason only a few courts use angels anymore.” Vivian nods, “Tradition dies hard among the fey, even when its something like.... this.” She sighs, “No offense, darling.”
The healer eyes Litany thoughtfully, “There’s something different about you though, isn’t there?”
“Uh-“ The angel’s gaze flickers this way and that, as their uncertainty spikes. “I-I-I, uh... maybe? How would I know?”
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