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10 weeks.
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Not a word.
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Still no closer to figuring this shit out.
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561 days.
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It's been too long.
[Added after a little while; Voice]
... Mm. Not good enough.
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[There's some silence as if he's contemplating something DEEP AND MEANINGFUL to say. And-- no. Screw that.]
This mistletoe shit better not include animals.
[Do not want to get shocked while taking Shell for a walk]
[ooc; WELL. He's keeping an eye out, but pfff. You people are like ninjas or whatever. He's trekking through Horton and out to the forest if anyone wants to try and get a smooch without being shot in the face. Though he may just take the shock 8|;;]