Unquiet hearts find sweeter rest. No longer does it loom, a pall upon this city. Last vestige of progress' lie, to the depths it goes. And this one wonders, only...
Do you enjoy your taste of larger sky, now the clouds have been plucked aside?
[There is the slight tinkling of delicate metal, movement, likely some worn adornment.]Sure as the wind
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Who are you?
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Interesting choice of words.
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The sky is beautiful without all the darkness in the way.
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