[A couple of inkspots appear on the page, as if the owner of the journal is pondering what to write. Then a short pause, and it switches over to voice. Or perhaps "voice." After a minute of nothing but the wind and the faint sound of the river, the entry is cut off by the sound of the journal closing
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Comments 161
Uhm--everyone okay over there? Whoever you are?
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It's fine.
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Sigmund?
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Man, if you wanted to kill somebody, there's faster ways to do it!
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So what were you trying to do, really? Seeing as big bad knights aren't usually the torturing type.
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... I was carving a flute. [Was probably being the operative word here.]
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I'm fine. It's fine. [Only dying of embarrassment, nothing else.]
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I am. Don't trouble yourself.
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M... my lord...?
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...That was unintentional.
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Are you alright?
[He's a little afraid to ask wtf is going on.]
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I was carving a flute.
[That really should tell Ed everything he needs to know about Sigmund's state of mind.]
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Merely a poorly tuned flute. My apologies, Richard.
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