How cruel it is, this month. It's as if the cold has taken the very breath from our bodies, laying it out for everyone to witness. I watched you, oh yes. You scurried around like so many ants, confused and wary, but still so very trusting. Like every flood before this. Like every breach. Every port. You slide into the trusting hands of the Admiral
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Comments 54
Since when has wanting to go home had anything to do with trust?
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It might not be the kindest sentiment, but affected or not it is a reliable one.
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At the very least friendliness. One need not be kind to be a friend.
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Now what?
[Sorry, Rhade, Iago was bound to break down at some point.]
What the hell am I supposed to think?
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No one leaves here alive.
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