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November 08, 2004
Gah.
So tired. Too tired to write properly, at any rate. Argh. And I have a crapload of stuff to do tomorrow, too. Grrr. I'm only at 12, 104. I suck.
Brakak and some of the others were waiting for him when he got into the hallway. They looked up at him, feathers sleek. Not for the first time, he wondered why they called themselves the Faceless Chickens when they had perfectly ordinary faces. Well, ordinary for chickens, anyway. Their beaks made them hard to understand when they spoke, but he'd finally gotten the hang of it.
"You have the glove?" Brakak squawked at him. It sounded more like "You hagh the glogh?" but Morris was so used to the way she talked by now that he just heard what she meant.
Posted by Ealasaid at November 8, 2004 10:52 PM
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