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Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7801895" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>I, Gossamer - 09/04/2019</strong></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>I wasn’t born yesterday. But I suppose it’s close enough to count.</em></p><p></p><p>I could feel the warmth and glow of the sun this morning, as it streamed through the windows of the inn. I lazily opened my eyes, enjoying the touch of the sun caressing me. I yawned and started to stretch my limbs and my back, arcing it. Today would be a wonderful day; for the first time in weeks the sun was out. Waterdeep’s omnipresent gloom of rain and fog from the sea was broken. I sat up in my bed satisfied and looked over across the room. What I saw, started my tail to thrash.</p><p></p><p>There in the feather bed, sprawled on her stomach was Myrai, still asleep. Her golden hair was a tangled knot, and the sun’s rays danced across her bare back as she softly breathed. As I stared at her, she would occasionally give out a quiet contented little snore. The glory of the mornings’ light was lost upon her, blissfully dreaming something pleasant elsewhere.</p><p></p><p>I thought a moment. Perhaps she was exhausted from last nights outing and she just needed a later start, and I took the moment to groom. It wasn’t incredibly urgent that we get up now I supposed, but I didn’t want to miss the prospect of seeing everything in the light. But as I washed my face, I realized that this might have been the first decent night’s sleep, she has had in weeks. I mean, I don’t think I was going to ever get used to her sitting up suddenly, bolt upright with terror in her eyes.</p><p></p><p>But now, she was resting peacefully. Oblivious to the wonderful prospect the sun gave us. But Myrai didn’t seem to mind the rain here in Waterdeep. She told me that the rain here was cleaner than the yellowish drizzle from the lower wards of Sigil. There, everyone wore leathers to keep the rain from staining your skin an ugly shade of yellow with a nasty brimstone smell as a bonus. That is, if you could afford it. Better to have yellowish leather instead of skin. Or fur and feathers I supposed.</p><p></p><p>She explained that it was a prominent feature of the lower wards because of all the portals to Baatezu, the Abyss and other lower planes, spouted brimstone clouds into the air. And truth be told, even in the Lady’s ward the rain wasn’t clean there either; but they had more magic to clean it up.</p><p></p><p>But that would be there. We’re here in Waterdeep, the rains from the sea had the scent of salt, not brimstone. But with the sun out to play across the sky, the city awoke and started the process of drying itself out after weeks of rain off and on. A welcome change for certain.</p><p></p><p>And yet, Myrai was completely unaware of it. And that made it totally unacceptable. For some reason, my clear glare of contempt isn’t going to wake her up. I mean she should feel the glare. So, I try the next obvious thing; shouting in her mind.</p><p></p><p><em>Myrai!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>-No.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Myrai</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>-No. Get out of my thoughts.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Come on. Myrai!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>-No! I want to sleep some more…</em></p><p></p><p>Clearly, I needed to take more drastic action. So, I flit down from the bookcase where I was perching and landed on Myrai’s back. If it were nap time I would be napping. But I wanted to finally see the city and not be cooped up with her and her silver book thing. The sun is out now, and that could change at any time. Now was a great time to stretch my wings. Myrai would not be allowed to sleep when there were things to do.</p><p></p><p>Myrai opened her eyes slightly. It took some practice, but I can now tell if Myrai was looking at me, or not. I noticed a lot of others just get lost in the mazes of mirrors. Most wouldn’t even notice if she wasn’t paying attention to them, was bored with them, or was interested and focused. Those silver mirrors could tell you a lot once you knew how to read them. Granted, it was sometimes easier just to ask her. But for all of the two weeks that I knew her, she spent an inordinate time trying to find a corner of an inn or bar and just hide.</p><p></p><p>Because, as forceful as a personality that she has, she usually wanted to be left alone. She was not a great social person. She does well enough with people she knows, which are few in number here. But, here in Waterdeep she is almost constantly accosted by strangers. And most of them fall into two groups of people.</p><p></p><p>The first were the “Suitors.” They wanted her for various reasons, to get to know her and spend time. Many times, this involved plying her with …um…think she calls the stuff “bub.” She’s cautious about drinks she didn’t ask for. But even then, the tactics of these people were too similar and just didn’t work. They were all flash, thinking she would be an easy mark to their charms. The older males (and two females as I recall) were interested in her as some sort of trophy or collectible. She was used to it she said, but it was more intense here; Aasimars are rarer here, and most aren’t as …distinctive as she was. Or so she said. Never did see another one that looked like her. In fact, I didn’t recall her identifying another one at all. By comparison there were more tieflings about. But, being a distinctive Aasimar led to a very different group of people trying to see her: The “Desperate.”</p><p></p><p>This group heard only that “an Angel is in town” and came to her seeking blessings. This was a new experience to her as apparently, as this didn’t happen in Sigil at all. So, the first time I saw an example of it, it shocked her. It was simple; a poor woman asking an ‘Angel for a blessing for her child.’ That was simple enough, but then others came. Many with unlucky stories. And it never stopped. </p><p></p><p>So, every night it she toured the city by going to a different festhall or inn each night. While she enjoyed the exploration, I realized it was mostly just to make her harder to find. But someone would, and to her credit she was more patient with them than I would have been. She never shouted, or turned them away, but she would leave the place at the first opportunity.</p><p></p><p>But no matter where she was there was one who could always find her; the toy. The toy always was looking for her. The toy was fun. It was fast and quiet when it wanted to be. But the golden tone tended to reflect light if you knew to look for it.</p><p></p><p>And I was told to keep an eye out for it. I enjoyed this, as it became a game. The toy would swoop in and chirp that weird “bee-poop” noise, and I would swoop down from a rafter and pin it to the table. It got smarter about it too, so the challenge was there. Never really hurt it.</p><p></p><p>But boy its pet howled a lot about it. Wherever the toy was, the funny short pet would be following, objecting on some principle. “Scuffing it,” “I might break it,” “I don’t treat your things that way,” “I should have never taught you that spell.” Repeatedly.</p><p></p><p>Always with the complaints. But despite the rhetoric, he was the only person she generally wanted to see. They both spent time on researching various things, and traded notes. Or at least, she let the pet go on about his research and gave him some practicum of planar detail that weren't covered in the books. She had borrowed some books and spent time researching some sort of Arcanum and older dialects of Celestial.</p><p>At night, she would pour over the silver scroll thingy. The pet didn’t understand that object at all. Not to say he didn’t try, he just didn’t get very far. I wondered if it was his lack of background in Celestial. She did try to teach him one of the quatrains that apparently covered some type of ritual, and he barely understood it. Not his fault, Myrai had to learn a smattering of gnomish to understand his spellbook, and it was a serious amount of effort to translate his notations to hers. I stole a glance at both systems, her’s would be described as “elegant with style.” His actually was very precise and detailed. But neither really could understand the other without helping each other.</p><p></p><p>So, in general she appreciated the dialog but he did occasionally grate on her nerves. In fact, last night was the only time I remember her complaining about him. It started when he told some type of off-color joke in which the punch line involved a two-hour genealogy lesson about his family. That appeared to hit her tolerance level last night and so she hit the bed early.</p><p></p><p>But that was last night, and we live for the now, and now Myrai needs to get up. Now. But instead, as I stood on her back, Myrai barely turned her head and gave me a look that roughly said, “Are you sodding kidding?”</p><p></p><p>I was unconcerned. I simply reached out with my forepaw and I slowly extended my middle claw, and only it. And very gently placed the tip of my claw on Myrai’s lower lip.</p><p></p><p>Myrai was fully awake now, as the claw tip was just sharp enough to get attention without drawing blood. She attempted to swat and throw me off the bed, but I just flew back to the shelf just out of reach. Propping herself up, Myrai regarded me with bemusement. She stretched and rose from her bed and made her way to the window.</p><p></p><p>We were on the 2nd floor of the “Dancing Cyclops Inn,” somewhere in the Trades ward. I overheard during an evening that it was founded by a bunch of adventurers some time ago. Myrai stated it was comparatively cheap and had a room to let. But I suspected it was a bit more than just that.</p><p></p><p>One reason was the staff. Considering that her choices and offers for tours of taps, she tried to keep her evenings here…or at least try to end them here. Only when the Desperate started showing up, did she change venues and the kitchen staff seemed well disposed enough to help her sneak out and the Innkeep never really confirming that she was there, ever was there or if she was coming back.</p><p></p><p>But there was something else lurking in her heart as well. Because if she could she would park herself here in comparison to any other place. It didn’t matter where, on a stool or a chair or on a bench. And it didn’t matter what was going on. Bards, drinking contests, contests, drunken song or all at the same time. And sometimes she just hung out in a corner and read her scroll thingy. After asking and getting evasive answers, I came to the conclusion it was a combination of being lonely and that this inn reminded her of something she’s lost. The pet that came to visit was a friend, but more in a sort of professional way. She was looking for something else, but she never would say what. I'm not sure she even knows.</p><p></p><p>But as she looked outside this morning, and saw the weather taking a gorgeous turn for the better she smirked.</p><p></p><p>“Typical, the day we are going to leave is finally the day that there is good weather,” and she moved to start putting on her small clothes and leathers</p><p></p><p><em>What? Leave? Did I miss something from dinner last night?</em></p><p></p><p>“Yes, you did,” and she turned her head with that smile and looked at me. “Now if you wouldn’t exhaust yourself playing with Foggle, you would remember that. Beepu got a note from the brothers finally, so we’re off to Secomber after a quick stop in Daggerford. I hope they are alright, and if they learned something useful.”</p><p></p><p>Ah…the brothers. She had been talking about one of them constantly here. Big “D” she called him. Some of the patrons of the bars had heard about him, with most saying that he was a great pit fighter. Oddly enough, there was a group of halflings that laughed at and said he was a washup with ‘tender apples’, whatever that meant. But that was only one group, and no one believed the one halfling that claimed to have beat him twice.</p><p></p><p>She had mentioned the other brother a couple of times but never by name publicly, referring to him either as a “Knight” or rarely his name “Iesa.” She smiled when she mentioned his name and saying that she was sure that someone named “Mo” would keep an eye out for him. I did catch that she had recovered him from near death several times, so she was worried about him. Said that he reminded her someone else years ago.</p><p>She sounded like she cared about both of them. It made me wonder why she chose to come here, instead of Secomber.</p><p></p><p><em>Sounds like you are worried about them.</em></p><p></p><p>“I am.” She said after a moment. “I have pulled them both back from the brink more than once,” and now she was starting to put on weapon belts and check that everything hung where she wanted them.</p><p></p><p><em>But if you were so worried, why did you come here instead of following them.</em></p><p></p><p>“Well, two reasons. The first to understand…this,” she held up the silver cylinder that was resting on the table. “I was given a vision to…to summon it, I guess. I learned enough that I could copy some of Beepu’s spells into it, using a mild acid to etch them on the blank sheets of metal. But there is a lot more in it I <strong><em>can’t</em></strong> read. So, I was hoping to find a primer on old celestial or some other guide,” and she slipped the silvery cylinder into a leather scroll case on her belt.</p><p></p><p><em>But that didn’t work.</em></p><p></p><p>“No, it didn’t. Celestial is a very old tongue, perhaps the oldest known, and it hasn’t really changed much. And this style of lettering is..strange. Blurry or overwritten in many places. I never considered myself…educated. But I thought I could understand this at least.”</p><p></p><p><em>So, what was the other reason.</em></p><p></p><p>She smiled and looked at me, and reached out to stroke my fur, and the feathers on my wings. “To create you, Gossamer.”</p><p></p><p><em>You didn’t really create me; I was there when you called.</em></p><p></p><p>“I guess you are right there. A celestial spirit that needed a form, and when I called, you answered.”</p><p></p><p><em>But why a flying cat?</em></p><p></p><p>“Tressym, not ‘flying cat.’ I remember a pet keeper in the trade district in Sigil having one very briefly. And I’ve wanted one ever since.“</p><p></p><p>She then scratched my ears, and said, “Come on, Beepu will be waiting at his friend’s house, and we have a bit of travelling to do. And besides, you’ll have fun keeping an eye on Mo.”</p><p></p><p><em>Can we at least look around the town a bit in the sun? It’s been ten days!</em></p><p></p><p>She smiled at me and scratched the fur around my cheeks. She knows just the right spot…ah yes.</p><p>There!</p><p></p><p>“I think we can do that for a bit. Be a novelty not getting wet,” she grabbed her pack and looked around the small room for anything else she might have left behind.</p><p></p><p><em>It will be interesting travelling here. This is all very new to me.</em></p><p></p><p>Myrai cocked her head at me and smiled again nodding:</p><p></p><p>“You and me both.”</p><p></p><p><strong>Session notes:</strong></p><p>Downtime: 1 week of thought, 5 min of discussion. </p><p></p><p>But on a completely different note; this thread as of this point is one year old. Thanks again to all of you still reading. It means a lot to me that you do.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 7801895, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]I, Gossamer - 09/04/2019[/B] [I]I wasn’t born yesterday. But I suppose it’s close enough to count.[/I][/CENTER] I could feel the warmth and glow of the sun this morning, as it streamed through the windows of the inn. I lazily opened my eyes, enjoying the touch of the sun caressing me. I yawned and started to stretch my limbs and my back, arcing it. Today would be a wonderful day; for the first time in weeks the sun was out. Waterdeep’s omnipresent gloom of rain and fog from the sea was broken. I sat up in my bed satisfied and looked over across the room. What I saw, started my tail to thrash. There in the feather bed, sprawled on her stomach was Myrai, still asleep. Her golden hair was a tangled knot, and the sun’s rays danced across her bare back as she softly breathed. As I stared at her, she would occasionally give out a quiet contented little snore. The glory of the mornings’ light was lost upon her, blissfully dreaming something pleasant elsewhere. I thought a moment. Perhaps she was exhausted from last nights outing and she just needed a later start, and I took the moment to groom. It wasn’t incredibly urgent that we get up now I supposed, but I didn’t want to miss the prospect of seeing everything in the light. But as I washed my face, I realized that this might have been the first decent night’s sleep, she has had in weeks. I mean, I don’t think I was going to ever get used to her sitting up suddenly, bolt upright with terror in her eyes. But now, she was resting peacefully. Oblivious to the wonderful prospect the sun gave us. But Myrai didn’t seem to mind the rain here in Waterdeep. She told me that the rain here was cleaner than the yellowish drizzle from the lower wards of Sigil. There, everyone wore leathers to keep the rain from staining your skin an ugly shade of yellow with a nasty brimstone smell as a bonus. That is, if you could afford it. Better to have yellowish leather instead of skin. Or fur and feathers I supposed. She explained that it was a prominent feature of the lower wards because of all the portals to Baatezu, the Abyss and other lower planes, spouted brimstone clouds into the air. And truth be told, even in the Lady’s ward the rain wasn’t clean there either; but they had more magic to clean it up. But that would be there. We’re here in Waterdeep, the rains from the sea had the scent of salt, not brimstone. But with the sun out to play across the sky, the city awoke and started the process of drying itself out after weeks of rain off and on. A welcome change for certain. And yet, Myrai was completely unaware of it. And that made it totally unacceptable. For some reason, my clear glare of contempt isn’t going to wake her up. I mean she should feel the glare. So, I try the next obvious thing; shouting in her mind. [I]Myrai! -No. Myrai -No. Get out of my thoughts. Come on. Myrai! -No! I want to sleep some more…[/I] Clearly, I needed to take more drastic action. So, I flit down from the bookcase where I was perching and landed on Myrai’s back. If it were nap time I would be napping. But I wanted to finally see the city and not be cooped up with her and her silver book thing. The sun is out now, and that could change at any time. Now was a great time to stretch my wings. Myrai would not be allowed to sleep when there were things to do. Myrai opened her eyes slightly. It took some practice, but I can now tell if Myrai was looking at me, or not. I noticed a lot of others just get lost in the mazes of mirrors. Most wouldn’t even notice if she wasn’t paying attention to them, was bored with them, or was interested and focused. Those silver mirrors could tell you a lot once you knew how to read them. Granted, it was sometimes easier just to ask her. But for all of the two weeks that I knew her, she spent an inordinate time trying to find a corner of an inn or bar and just hide. Because, as forceful as a personality that she has, she usually wanted to be left alone. She was not a great social person. She does well enough with people she knows, which are few in number here. But, here in Waterdeep she is almost constantly accosted by strangers. And most of them fall into two groups of people. The first were the “Suitors.” They wanted her for various reasons, to get to know her and spend time. Many times, this involved plying her with …um…think she calls the stuff “bub.” She’s cautious about drinks she didn’t ask for. But even then, the tactics of these people were too similar and just didn’t work. They were all flash, thinking she would be an easy mark to their charms. The older males (and two females as I recall) were interested in her as some sort of trophy or collectible. She was used to it she said, but it was more intense here; Aasimars are rarer here, and most aren’t as …distinctive as she was. Or so she said. Never did see another one that looked like her. In fact, I didn’t recall her identifying another one at all. By comparison there were more tieflings about. But, being a distinctive Aasimar led to a very different group of people trying to see her: The “Desperate.” This group heard only that “an Angel is in town” and came to her seeking blessings. This was a new experience to her as apparently, as this didn’t happen in Sigil at all. So, the first time I saw an example of it, it shocked her. It was simple; a poor woman asking an ‘Angel for a blessing for her child.’ That was simple enough, but then others came. Many with unlucky stories. And it never stopped. So, every night it she toured the city by going to a different festhall or inn each night. While she enjoyed the exploration, I realized it was mostly just to make her harder to find. But someone would, and to her credit she was more patient with them than I would have been. She never shouted, or turned them away, but she would leave the place at the first opportunity. But no matter where she was there was one who could always find her; the toy. The toy always was looking for her. The toy was fun. It was fast and quiet when it wanted to be. But the golden tone tended to reflect light if you knew to look for it. And I was told to keep an eye out for it. I enjoyed this, as it became a game. The toy would swoop in and chirp that weird “bee-poop” noise, and I would swoop down from a rafter and pin it to the table. It got smarter about it too, so the challenge was there. Never really hurt it. But boy its pet howled a lot about it. Wherever the toy was, the funny short pet would be following, objecting on some principle. “Scuffing it,” “I might break it,” “I don’t treat your things that way,” “I should have never taught you that spell.” Repeatedly. Always with the complaints. But despite the rhetoric, he was the only person she generally wanted to see. They both spent time on researching various things, and traded notes. Or at least, she let the pet go on about his research and gave him some practicum of planar detail that weren't covered in the books. She had borrowed some books and spent time researching some sort of Arcanum and older dialects of Celestial. At night, she would pour over the silver scroll thingy. The pet didn’t understand that object at all. Not to say he didn’t try, he just didn’t get very far. I wondered if it was his lack of background in Celestial. She did try to teach him one of the quatrains that apparently covered some type of ritual, and he barely understood it. Not his fault, Myrai had to learn a smattering of gnomish to understand his spellbook, and it was a serious amount of effort to translate his notations to hers. I stole a glance at both systems, her’s would be described as “elegant with style.” His actually was very precise and detailed. But neither really could understand the other without helping each other. So, in general she appreciated the dialog but he did occasionally grate on her nerves. In fact, last night was the only time I remember her complaining about him. It started when he told some type of off-color joke in which the punch line involved a two-hour genealogy lesson about his family. That appeared to hit her tolerance level last night and so she hit the bed early. But that was last night, and we live for the now, and now Myrai needs to get up. Now. But instead, as I stood on her back, Myrai barely turned her head and gave me a look that roughly said, “Are you sodding kidding?” I was unconcerned. I simply reached out with my forepaw and I slowly extended my middle claw, and only it. And very gently placed the tip of my claw on Myrai’s lower lip. Myrai was fully awake now, as the claw tip was just sharp enough to get attention without drawing blood. She attempted to swat and throw me off the bed, but I just flew back to the shelf just out of reach. Propping herself up, Myrai regarded me with bemusement. She stretched and rose from her bed and made her way to the window. We were on the 2nd floor of the “Dancing Cyclops Inn,” somewhere in the Trades ward. I overheard during an evening that it was founded by a bunch of adventurers some time ago. Myrai stated it was comparatively cheap and had a room to let. But I suspected it was a bit more than just that. One reason was the staff. Considering that her choices and offers for tours of taps, she tried to keep her evenings here…or at least try to end them here. Only when the Desperate started showing up, did she change venues and the kitchen staff seemed well disposed enough to help her sneak out and the Innkeep never really confirming that she was there, ever was there or if she was coming back. But there was something else lurking in her heart as well. Because if she could she would park herself here in comparison to any other place. It didn’t matter where, on a stool or a chair or on a bench. And it didn’t matter what was going on. Bards, drinking contests, contests, drunken song or all at the same time. And sometimes she just hung out in a corner and read her scroll thingy. After asking and getting evasive answers, I came to the conclusion it was a combination of being lonely and that this inn reminded her of something she’s lost. The pet that came to visit was a friend, but more in a sort of professional way. She was looking for something else, but she never would say what. I'm not sure she even knows. But as she looked outside this morning, and saw the weather taking a gorgeous turn for the better she smirked. “Typical, the day we are going to leave is finally the day that there is good weather,” and she moved to start putting on her small clothes and leathers [I]What? Leave? Did I miss something from dinner last night?[/I] “Yes, you did,” and she turned her head with that smile and looked at me. “Now if you wouldn’t exhaust yourself playing with Foggle, you would remember that. Beepu got a note from the brothers finally, so we’re off to Secomber after a quick stop in Daggerford. I hope they are alright, and if they learned something useful.” Ah…the brothers. She had been talking about one of them constantly here. Big “D” she called him. Some of the patrons of the bars had heard about him, with most saying that he was a great pit fighter. Oddly enough, there was a group of halflings that laughed at and said he was a washup with ‘tender apples’, whatever that meant. But that was only one group, and no one believed the one halfling that claimed to have beat him twice. She had mentioned the other brother a couple of times but never by name publicly, referring to him either as a “Knight” or rarely his name “Iesa.” She smiled when she mentioned his name and saying that she was sure that someone named “Mo” would keep an eye out for him. I did catch that she had recovered him from near death several times, so she was worried about him. Said that he reminded her someone else years ago. She sounded like she cared about both of them. It made me wonder why she chose to come here, instead of Secomber. [I]Sounds like you are worried about them.[/I] “I am.” She said after a moment. “I have pulled them both back from the brink more than once,” and now she was starting to put on weapon belts and check that everything hung where she wanted them. [I]But if you were so worried, why did you come here instead of following them.[/I] “Well, two reasons. The first to understand…this,” she held up the silver cylinder that was resting on the table. “I was given a vision to…to summon it, I guess. I learned enough that I could copy some of Beepu’s spells into it, using a mild acid to etch them on the blank sheets of metal. But there is a lot more in it I [B][I]can’t[/I][/B] read. So, I was hoping to find a primer on old celestial or some other guide,” and she slipped the silvery cylinder into a leather scroll case on her belt. [I]But that didn’t work.[/I] “No, it didn’t. Celestial is a very old tongue, perhaps the oldest known, and it hasn’t really changed much. And this style of lettering is..strange. Blurry or overwritten in many places. I never considered myself…educated. But I thought I could understand this at least.” [I]So, what was the other reason.[/I] She smiled and looked at me, and reached out to stroke my fur, and the feathers on my wings. “To create you, Gossamer.” [I]You didn’t really create me; I was there when you called.[/I] “I guess you are right there. A celestial spirit that needed a form, and when I called, you answered.” [I]But why a flying cat?[/I] “Tressym, not ‘flying cat.’ I remember a pet keeper in the trade district in Sigil having one very briefly. And I’ve wanted one ever since.“ She then scratched my ears, and said, “Come on, Beepu will be waiting at his friend’s house, and we have a bit of travelling to do. And besides, you’ll have fun keeping an eye on Mo.” [I]Can we at least look around the town a bit in the sun? It’s been ten days![/I] She smiled at me and scratched the fur around my cheeks. She knows just the right spot…ah yes. There! “I think we can do that for a bit. Be a novelty not getting wet,” she grabbed her pack and looked around the small room for anything else she might have left behind. [I]It will be interesting travelling here. This is all very new to me.[/I] Myrai cocked her head at me and smiled again nodding: “You and me both.” [B]Session notes:[/B] Downtime: 1 week of thought, 5 min of discussion. But on a completely different note; this thread as of this point is one year old. Thanks again to all of you still reading. It means a lot to me that you do. [/QUOTE]
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