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Caleb feels his hair falling heavily over one shoulder, loose at the back. He reaches up, manacle clanking, and feels that Essek has woven braids into his hair on one side, some large and chunky, some thin and delicate. His eyebrows climb and he looks at the drow who seems almost to… blush? “Apologies – you were in pain and I… I do not deal well with being helpless. You can take them out, I know they are not an Empire style.”
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Bookmark Notes:
Shadowgast, from both perspectives- mmmmmmmm :P