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Sat Feb 15, 2020 2:21 pm
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Lib says...



Helenah blinked at Kiran.

After a moment of silence, she was done eating and she plopped herself back under the tree. "What now?" she asked, picking at some grass.

Ruby fluttered onto a branch on a more leafy tree, preened, and dozed off.
*insert quirky signature here*








A true poet does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.
— Jean Cocteau