There's no way for her to know how long it's been. There's no sun here, so she can't watch it rise and fall. No stars, no moon, no way of knowing that it's been over two years since she fell
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That all sounds just awful. Really unfortunate. Poor suffering girl. If there were to be a stabbing sort of pain in her gut, and blue taste, she probably wouldn't even notice it, huh? No one would blame her: there's a lot going on.
But if a familiar face in an unfamiliar suit were to suddenly be standing over her, and happily chirp:
Faith looks up at him, squinting. "You're a new one," she mutters, thinking he's another one of the demon-impressions. Which, in a way, is true. "I know you're not really Warren, so you might as well get to the part where you start braking things."
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But if a familiar face in an unfamiliar suit were to suddenly be standing over her, and happily chirp:
"Well, hi! Imagine seeing you here."
She'd probably notice that, right?
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"Beg pardon?"
He blinks at her for a moment.
"Er...this isn't a social call, is it?"
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Long pause.
"...Wes?"
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