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accidentally whacks u with staff

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❝ Others that hold onto an emotion. A drive. Loss. Revenge. Or love. ❞
❝ Love. ❞ Fenris chuffs; a noise somewhere between a barked laugh and a sigh. ❝ I have loved little, understand,❞ he says, fingers wrapping around his wrist, ❝ and I have loved nothing completely.❞ What little there is to love, in the life of an elf, is often a solitary practice. He eyes the scars that Merrill wears, cuts of pride on her fingers and wounds of hope across her arms — and the markings of the Dalish, a love that she cannot abandon.
❝ Perhaps we place too much stock in these things.❞ It is avoidance, he knows. He also knows that AVOIDING the inopportune largely contributes to his currently beating heart. ❝ Anger and loss, these are in the very least tangible. Revenge, actionable. It hardly does any good to humor idleness.❞
Letting his hand fall from his wrist, he turns to her, knowing that even in all of their disagreements they share many of the same injuries — cursed with a devotion to those that wander, and wander endlessly. ❝ Wouldn’t you agree?❞
hello emotional support bastard
hello emotional support tapeworm