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Frost and Stories: part 26

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    "C'mon, Story!  Keep up!"  Shady and I had been at it for hours now.  Well, today it'd been hours.  I'd been at her castle for a week now.  Yes, you read me right, I said castle.  Let me tell you, when I first showed up, I was floored.  I'd had my jaw hanging up until the point that I saw her armory... then I went into full on fangirl-mode.  Hey, I like weapons and things that go boom, sue me.  I'd spent a few good hours gawking at the sharp and pointy objects before we got to the point of my visit.  No pun intended.

    However, my elation had diminished a bit once we'd started training.  That's when the bruises started showing up.  Oh yeah, Shady hit so hard, that the bruises lasted for a few days at least, when they'd usually be gone in a few hours.  Four months had passed since my party and I'd finally gotten around to the training Shady had mentioned.  Let's just say, it wasn't as fun as I thought it would be. 

    "Shady, I'm tired.  I'm sore.  And I'm about ready to rip your head off your shoulders."  I wasn't in my most chipper mood, if you catch my drift.  Being beaten daily for a week straight will do that to you.  And I don't mean beaten like loosing, I mean like black and blue.  Quite literally.  Except that I was more like purple and yellow, from the bruises. 

    "Good, use that.  In a fight yer opponent won't stop just because yer tired."  Instead of doing as she told me, I sat down on the ground and crossed my arms.  "Get up!"  Shady really was a good teacher.  Maybe not the nicest, but really good.  Then again, I was a quick learner.  So that might be part of it.  I'm not saying I was an expert already, far from it.  But I did know all the basics by now, and I could hold my own for a few minutes at least.  That is, until she started actually trying.  That's when I acquired more bruises and bumps.

    I glared at her.  "No.  I'm taking a break."  She glared right back.  "If you want me to fight, you're gonna have to make me."  I looked away, arms still crossed.  I didn't care if I was acting like a little kid.  Like I said, I was tired.

    She growled.  "Story..."  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her start towards me.  Every time I'd tried to take a break, or a breather, or even decided to stop for the day before she said so, she'd come at me.  I knew she was starting to get fed up with my stubbornness, though. 

    That's what I used to my advantage.  Not me wanting to decapitate her.  Now, Shady hadn't just been teaching me how to use my sword.  She'd been teaching me how to fight in general, but my sword specifically.  I was wearing Artie's bracers, so my forearms were mostly clear of bruises.  Everywhere else was a different story.  I'm pretty sure I had a concussion too.  Or I did earlier in the week.  Now, however, I was clearheaded.

    I wasn't a fighter.  Well, I was, just not a very good one.  If it came down to fight or flight, I was gonna fight.  That's who I am and that's how I am.  However, I fight with my mind, more than my body.  I've never been the strongest person around - physically.  I despised gym class every year I was forced to take it.  Even failed it one year.  I feel no shame about that, none at all.  I know I'm not an athlete.  I also hate exercise in every form.  Well every normal form.  I like rock climbing, swimming, and even though I was black and blue, I enjoyed this.  But I still hate sports and weight rooms.

    Shady knew all this, which is why she wasn't expecting anything from me.  She thought I was being my stubborn self and that I was just gonna sit here.  Wrongo.  She came up behind me, sword held high like I knew it would be.  Every other time I'd taken up this position, she'd come up behind me and whacked me with the flat of her sword.  On the head.  This time was gonna be different.

    I heard her stop about a foot or so behind my back and I knew what was coming.  Before she had time to bring her sword down, I leaned back and wrapped my arms around her legs.  While she was surprised by my move, I reached my legs up to grab hold of her torso and I managed to pull her down to the ground.  Yes!

    
My victory was short lived, however, because the next moment she'd kicked me in the face and had freed herself.  By the time I stopped seeing stars a moment later, her sword was pointed at my throat, which was the indication that the fight was over.  She was grinning.  Yeah, you're all smiles and meanwhile, my nose is bleeding and I'm growing another bruise.  I reached up to feel my nose gingerly.  It had already healed itself, but there was a tiny trickle of blood that had crept out.  "I swear, you're gonna break my nose eventually."

    "Yer alright."  She sheathed her sword and held her hand out for me to grab.  I did and almost pulled her down to the ground as I stood.  Almost, because she was used to my 'assistance' by now.  "Smart thinkin'.  Knockin' me off balance like that."  She was still grinning.

    "Yeah, well it wasn't enough to beat you, now was it?"

    "Don't feel too bad.  Keep in mind, I'm a few thousand years yer senior.  I've been doin' this a lot longer than you, my friend."  She slung her arm across my shoulders.  "But that was a really good shot.  Just gotta move a bit faster next time."

    I rubbed at my nose.  "I'll keep that in mind."  I wonder if this is how Jack feels when Sel beats him up for doing something stupid?  Mentally I shrugged, not being able to physically.  Both from Shady still having her arm across my shoulder and from the fact that I was even more sore now that I'd been kicked in the face.

    She grabbed my arm with her free hand, inspecting my bracer.  "Artie did do well, didn't he?"  She wasn't asking me, more like talking to herself.  "No bruises at all under these."  An approving look crossed her features.  She dropped my arm and quickly ran her eyes over the rest of me, expression changing to that of mild guilt.  "Yea, maybe you should be wearing more armor."

    "Maybe you can just not hit so hard, how about that?"  She laughed, loud and hard.  I'd have laughed too but, still sore.  Also, I was pretty sure that laughing then would have given me a headache.

    "You really are funny, Story."  She clapped me on the back, making me wince.  "Sorry.  Let's get something to eat."  She led the way back to her castle.  Training was outside on the grounds.  Less obstacles, less distractions, less restrictions.  Shady's words, not mine.  Apparently, future training sessions would be held indoors, once my skill level rose.  Needless to say, that time was far off. 

    The castle was on top of a hill, big shocker.  It was big and it was gray and it was impressive.  To my surprise, there was a crud-ton of mortals mulling around.  They were there for most of the day, actually.  Shady had explained it to me.  About half of the castle was open for tours as a historical site.  Civilians came and went, paying their fee to see a real Scottish castle. 

    The official story, was that the castle had been passed down through the generations, and the current owner had opened it up to the public.  The areas that were off limits were where the owner lived and such.  The staff was told that as well, even though none of them ever went to the private areas, save a handful that believed in Shady.  Unofficially, Shady was getting hassled by the government and had to turn her house into a 'tourist trap', as she put it.  It was the only way she could keep her castle free of 'freeloaders', also her words.  However, on the plus side for her, the money she raked in from all the tourists was enough that she could afford to spend money frivolously.  Not that she did, but you get the picture.  Actually, most of the money that came in, she used to pay her employees.

    Shady waltzed through the doors like she owned the place.  The fact that she did was besides the point.  She marched me straight to the armory where she deposited her sword and the armor she'd worn that day.  The bracers she always wore stayed though.  "Check yer blade."

    I glanced at it, to see that there was a little dirt on it from when I'd sat on the ground and thrown my mock hissy fit.  I rolled my eyes as I wiped it clean.  'Take care of your weapons', she'd said.  'Keep the blade clean', she'd said.  If she really wanted me to take care of it, she should have given me a scabbard for it.  Honestly, she didn't need to remind me by now, but she still did. 

    She reached back and pulled the hair-tie out of her braid.  She'd put her hair back every day we'd been out there sparring, and everyday, the second we were done, she shook her mane out.  And she did so now.  After running her fingers through the braid a few times, her puff ball was back in business.  She may be able to tame her hair temporarily, but it always came roaring back - almost literally. 

    She shook out her hair before reapplying her usual weapons.  I hadn't had any idea that she carried so many.  I mean, I know her motto is never go anywhere unarmed, but this was ridiculous.  She always carried one knife in each boot, one under each bracer, and one in a back-strap under her jacket.  And that was her minimum.  It wasn't like I could really say anything.  I'd always had a plan in the event of a zombie apocalypse.  Screwdrivers made wonderful weapons, as do hairpins.  Plus I had my machete.  So I really couldn't complain.  But she made marines look unprepared.

    Our business with the armory done, we went to the dining room.  Well, dining room was an understatement, it was more like a banquet hall.  Complete with a mile long table.  And here I thought that she wasn't like that.  Shady came off as a person who wasn't into money and possessions and whatnot.  She seemed like someone who bar hopped, to be honest.  However, now that I'd seen her castle and had stayed in it for a week, I knew different.  Even knowing her outside of her home, I could see that she actually did fit in here.  As at home as she was at Legends, this was definitely her home. 

    She sat at the head of the table, in what was obviously her chair, and I sat to her left.  She hadn't even been sitting for a second when the head butler came over to us.  Now, he couldn't see me.  I wasn't widely enough known and it's harder for adults to believe, as we've already established.  He knew I was there, Shady had told the staff that she had a visitor.  They were so used to invisible guests that they took it in stride.  I will never get used to this...  But I don't think I want to.  I smiled a little, to myself. 

    "Would you like anythin' Miss Scathach?"  He stood at attention, eyes clapped on Shady. 

    "Story, you hungry?"  I nodded.  "Just a snack.  We've been trainin'."  He nodded once, and I saw the twitch of a smile.  That butthead's laughing at me!  Well, I wasn't really surprised, I mean, if he's been working for Shady as long as I think he has, than he probably knows that she rarely, if ever, looses.  Shady was still grinning.  "Oh, and turn on the music, would you?"

    He turned back to her and nodded again.  "Yes, Miss."

    I watched him leave the room, then I turned to Shady.  "Wipe that smile off your face.  You've beaten me every day, it's nothing new by now."  I folded my arms childishly.

    "Tha's not why I'm smilin'.  I'm grinnin' 'cause you got a blow in.  And you've only been at it fer a week!"  I really didn't get it.  She was happy that I made her face-plant?  "Ye really are a quick learner, I'll give you that."

    "Thank you?  I think." 

    She giggled, and I knew she was about to say something, but that minute the music started playing.  She'd had the castle wired a few decades back so that she had a sound system hooked up.  Apparently, a lot of immortals were modernizing aspects of their homes.  Others, like Seraphina, were happy with what they'd always had.  Shady was in the former category. 

    Her eyes lit up as the sound of violins wafted from the speakers.  "Celtic Woman.  The greatest group in existence.  Don't tell Mors 'n Gaia I said that."

    I chuckled.  "I won't."  I knew the song that was playing, 'Teir Abhaile Riu'.  It had a great beat to it and, as all Celtic music, made you want to dance.  "So what's your favorite of theirs?"  She looked at me, a question on her face.  "Celtic Woman, not the Legends cast."

    "Ah, well..."  She thought about it for a minute.  "Most likely I'd say 'The Foxhunter'.  But if you meant one with words, then it'd be this one."  Her head bobbed in time to the music for a minute.  "So do you have a favorite?  I know you know most of their songs."

    I giggled.  "Guilty as charged."  I was a huge fan of Celtic music, and Celtic Woman was one of the only big name groups out there.  "That's tough though, because it depends on the mood I'm in."

    "Try."

    "Fine...  I guess it's a tie between 'Caledonia', 'At the Ceili', 'The New Ground - Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears', and 'The Foxhunter'."

    "Tha's a vast and varied list.  But I have to say, I like the end of it."  She flashed a smile at me.

    "I figured you would."  I watched as she jammed to her music.  A few minutes - and a few songs - later, the main butler and one of the other members of the staff - I didn't know his title - brought out the food.  Part of me felt bad about making them serve me when I wasn't paying.  This kind of service at a restaurant was one thing, but for free, on a daily basis was something else completely.  But they were doing their jobs, so I just had to get used to it.  Just wish I could say thank you.  Well, I could, but they wouldn't be able to hear me.  However, part of me kept waiting for them to bust out in the chorus of 'Be Our Guest'. 

    No such luck.  The two of them deposited the trays, lifted the covers off and retreated.  The junior butler - or whatever he was - ran off back to whatever he'd been doing before being recruited as back-up.  The other one stood near the door, out of the way with his hands folded.  I took a look at the 'snack'.  It was a meat pie and a side of veggies, which to my delight, were peas.  Well, carrots too, but peas, yay!  Actually, I was happy as long as there wasn't haggis on my plate.  Sorry, but never will I eat sheep stomach.  Nope.  Shady attempted to get me to eat it my first night there.  I refused and instead depleted the box of crackers I'd brought with me.  She hadn't tried since, to my relief. 

    Aside from the haggis incident, the food here was pretty good.  Pardon my ignorance, but when I thought of Scottish food before coming here, all I thought of was sheep stomach.  But I had to say, Scottish food was pretty dang tasty, especially for someone who likes food as much as me.  I loved the soup that we'd had the other day, which Shady had called 'Cullen skink'.  Again, pardon the ignorance, but my first thought had been of Twilight.  But the soup was delicious.  And the meat pies weren't too shabby either.  I'd always loved pot pies and these were basically the same.  And potatoes were everywhere, to my pleasure.  But still, I refuse to ever eat haggis.  Ever.  But yeah, lots of meat and potatoes with a few veggies thrown in. 

    I could really go on and on about the food, but I'll stop.  Don't wanna make everyone hungry now, do I?  But no, Shady and I were almost finished eating before she spoke up.  She cleared her throat to get my attention.  I glanced at her.  "I think yer good."  I didn't respond.  That's because I had no clue what she was talking about.  I gave her a look that clearly said 'huh'.  "I mean I think you can run off now.  I've taught you the basics and you can at the very least hold yer own.  The fact that you knocked me down today proved it."

    My eyebrows were brushing the ceiling.  Was she serious?  After a week of beating me black and blue she just decides I'm 'good'.  WTF!  She went on despite my internal reaction.  "I mean, yer still gonna need more advanced training and, well lets be honest, you won't win any real fights any time soon, but, for now, yer good."  Yes, insult me while you praise.  That's how everyone teaches.  "Besides, if we keep at it much longer, you're gonna be one big bruise."

    "Because I'm not already?"  I gestured at all of me, which was a previously stated plethora of purple-yellow from partially healed bruises. 

    "Trust me, if I was actually trying, you'd be too sore to move... and you'd probably be missing a limb or two." 

    "Well that makes me feel so much better."  I glanced at my upper arm, which was mostly purple.  That was her going easy on me?  I shook my head.  "So basically, what your telling me is that I've been kicked out?"

    She shrugged.  "If you want to put it that way, then be my guest.  I'm just saying that trainin's over fer now."  She gestured to the butler that was still at attention over by the door.  He came and took our plates, which were now cleared of food.  After he'd left the room, she stood up.  "Come on."

    Without waiting to see if I was following or not, she started out of the room.  I got up and went after her.  After a few minutes, I noticed we were heading to the armory.  I got there a minute or two after her.  When I walked in, she was rummaging around for something, talking to herself as she did.  "Where is it?"  She tossed a breastplate out of the way and I ducked to avoid it.  "I thought it was over here."  She shoved a few more things out of the way before shouting in triumph.  "There you are!" 

    She turned around, holding a scabbard.  She looked at me.  "Before you go, you'll be needing this."  She walked over to me and took my sword out of my hand, sliding it into the sheath she held.  She smiled.  "Perfect fit."  She held it out to me, still smiling.  I took it from her.  There was no strap or belt for it, just the case.  In any case, I knew this meant I'd accomplished something.  "I'll give you the belt fer it after yer next training session."  I raised my eyebrows and she shrugged nonchalantly.  "Every time you earn something, you'll get it."

    "What, like more armor?"  God knows I need it.

    "Yep.  I'm thinkin' greaves next."  She grinned and laughed.  After a minute, I did too.  If someone had told me twenty years ago that I'd be getting warrior lessons and armor from Scathach the Shadow, I'd have called them crazy and then begged them to make it happen.  Now it's happening and it's almost commonplace.  Just one more thing I love about my life. 

---

    I stuck around Shady's castle for another day, to let my bruises heal a little more before I ran off.  I went back to the Treehouse, happy to be home and rest - completely.  As I flew in, I saw the mini field of green from Gaia's plant, which had, indeed, spread like wildfire.  Two months ago, it had been a bright yellow, but then the flowers had all fallen off, so now it was all leafy vines.  Which was perfectly fine by me, especially when you considered the fact that they were starting to creep down the sides of the house.  I'd always loved those old brick buildings with vines eating them alive.  I'd always thought they were the most beautiful ones ever, regardless of the size and grandeur - or lack there of.  My home was now beginning to resemble them.  But better, because it was a magically grown tree house, hundreds of feet above the ground, with a plant that had bright yellow flowers for the entirety of spring.  And it was home to an immortal.  It was my home.  And that fact alone made me love it. 

    I landed in the clear space on the roof and let my wings return to their previous  residences.  I went into my room and put my sword - encased in the scabbard - into my closet along with my bracers.  I then changed into a clean set of clothes, noting with distain that the ones I'd worn for training now had major grass stains and dirt all over them.  Crap.  Well, either there'd be a laundry day in my near future, or they were now crap clothes that I would wear when painting and other things of the like.  But I have enough crap clothes.  I had a shirt as old as I was that was a crap shirt - and always had been - a guy's button-up shirt that was a XL - which I'd bought with a stain already on it.  I also had a pair of jeans that had stains from glue and paint, and a pair of shorts with green exterior paint splattered on them, from once when we'd repainted our house back when I was mortal.  And a pair of sneakers that I'd by now had for about twenty-five years. 

    It all came down to if I was willing to try and salvage the clothing I'd worn.  The pants were on their way to crap clothing anyway, which was why I'd worn them, but the shirt... I looked at it sideways.  Well, you can always use this shirt to replace Old Red.  True.  Inner voice gets another point.  Old Red was the first crap-shirt I'd mentioned.  It was a year older than I was, my mom had bought it in Hawaii the summer before I was born.  When I was little it was my night shirt, then, as I got older, it was my sick-day shirt.  Then life really started tearing it up, literally.  There were massive holes in Old Red.  I'd tried to mend the holes once, but I'd given it up as a lost cause.  Instead I took them in stride.  It was as stained as my other crap-clothes.  Stained with blood, sweat, tears, snot, hair-dye, ink, dirt, food, and who knows what else.  I was as attached to Old Red as Jack was to his staff, come to think of it. 

    "Crap shirt it is."  I tossed both items of clothing into the pile of crap clothes in the back of my closet.  Why bother hanging up clothing that I refer to as 'crap clothing'.  I mean, really.  In any case, I walked downstairs to the main floor and then outside onto the porch.  I took in the view for a moment before crossing the bridge that lead to my studio.  By now the room had a similar look to it that my crap clothes did.  Or, at least the floor looked similar.  Paint had splattered and ink had spilled.  Threads had become caught in the grain of the wood and refused to be swept up.  Beads and glitter had collected in corners - the glitter having come from sources I'd rather not disclose.  Basically, the room looked lived in. 

    I pulled out the sketch book that North had sent for the party and opened t to an - as of yet - unused page.  I grabbed a pencil and started sketching out the pictures floating in my mind.  Rectangles and circles became people.  Vague shapes and random lines became a castle and the landscape.  And a squiggle became Shady's mane.  I put the pencil away and whipped out my pen.  I only use gel pens or marker tips, personal preference.  I not-quite-so-quickly lined the drawing, adding detail as I went.  When I was done I set it aside to wait for the ink to dry.  Past experiences had taught me to wait a few minutes before erasing the pencil marks. 

    While I waited, I thought about how Shady had the speakers set up so she could listen to music.  As much as I was a product of my age - being a tech nut as I was - I don't think I'd ever be able to bring myself to do that here.  Would I love to have music playing in the Treehouse?  Yes, definitely.  Did I want to tech it up?  Not really.  I felt like, if I ran electricity up here, I'd be ruining it somehow.  And the last thing I wanted was to ruin it.  Everything I'd added to my house, had made it more into a home.  The furniture from Annie - mismatched as it was.  The flowers from Gaia.  Hell, even the house itself courtesy of Mother freaking Nature.  And my own artwork.  Music would most definitely add to it for me, but I didn't want to risk the blasphemy I know I'd feel were I to run speakers through out the place. 

    But electricity would mean being able to watch movies and stuff.  You know what?  Shut up, inner voice.  Sometimes it really got on my nerves.  I shook my head and checked on the drawing, seeing that it was dry.  I erased the pencil marks and set it back on the shelf.  I wasn't quite in the mood to color it in.  Actually, I was in the mood for a book.  I had a new one that I'd snuck out of a donation bin somewhere.  Hey, if someone's donated it, then they don't want it anymore.  If I get to it before the company does, then no one is out anything.  Everyone wins.  

    When I got to my library, I went to where the book now rested.  Truth be told, I already knew some of what was in the book.  Actually, I knew most of what was in the book.  I'd read it years ago online, when it was a work in progress.  Since then, the author had cleaned it up, fixed plot issues and continuity problems and had brought it to a publisher who okayed it.  But that had all happened over a decade ago, which was why someone had donated it.  I was just jazzed that I'd found it.  I used to be the person who bought books from stores, thrift shops, and garage sales.  Plus I went to the library and read stuff online.  Problem now was, no one could see me, so I couldn't really buy any books.  Which was why I resorted to sneaking them from donation bins. 

    I glanced around my library, noting that my collection had grown.  If I smushed all my books together, they'd take up two cases, or so.  However, they were spaced out and categorized according to genre and how much I enjoyed them.  Series were together, incomplete series were in separate areas.  Children's books were together.  My old favorites were all together, dog-eared and falling apart.  Yeah, just like with my studio, my system made sense to me, but not to anyone else.  Where other people sort in alphabetical order, I go by my gut.  Where others sort by date, I sort by how often I go back for the item.  And I know where everything is.  Usually.  

    I sat down in one of the comfier chairs and pulled my feet up.  Essentially, I was curling up with a good book.  I set it in my lap, smiling at the title, which was slightly different from the one I'd known online.  I loved learning about people who got their stories published.  Especially when I knew them when.  None of my believers had as much luck yet.  You know, hitting it big-time.  Mosy's had, though.  A lot of them, though most of her bit hits were just people she mused.  I wasn't worried.  My guys would do what made them happy, and that was all I wanted.  I wasn't in the business of making big name authors.  I was just trying to make sure that stories didn't die off. 

    So far, I'd say I was successful.  If the book in my hands was any indication.  If my library was.  Well, a library full of books will always be more impressive than a tablet or kindle with downloaded books any day.  Besides, books had been around for hundreds of years.  Technology wasn't about to snuff them out if I had anything to say about it.  And believe me, I definitely had something to say. 

    Anyway, I cracked open the book and spent the next few hours reading nonstop.  No fiery projectiles threatened the sanctity of my home, thankfully.  But mist crept across the floor, faint music could be heard, and the smell of a far off forest permeated the room.  I swear, if I could see myself read, I'd wonder how the room changed, I really would.  But I couldn't pull myself out of a story even if I wanted to.  Every once in a while, though, if I managed to stop abruptly, I could catch a minute of change before everything settled back to normal.  I felt like the Pagemaster sometimes. 

    The thought of Fantasy, Adventure and Horror running around my house made me giggle.  Horror was so adorable, Adventure was such a walking cliché, and Fantasy was so street.  That might have been the first movie that taught me, truly, what it was to not judge a book by it's cover.  Literally.  I still did though, often.  Though for me it was more of the spine that caught my eye.  Either a color or the font.  The title or the thickness.  And call me picky, but I've always had a soft spot for books whose pages were uneven.  The ones that had that old timey look to them.  

    This wasn't one of them.  Nope, this book was just plain old regular book.  With wonderful words.  Beautiful, wonderful words.  Even disregarding the fact that, with me reading it, magic did happen, the book was still magical.  I got to the last chapter, the last page.  I read the happy ending and smiled.  This book wasn't a trilogy or a series, it was a stand alone.  But it was still a good story.  I closed it and sat with my eyes closed, waiting for the mist to dissipate, the smell to revert to normal, and for the music to fade.  Once it did, an unknown amount of time later, I got up and placed the book back in it's place on the shelf.  

    I raised my arms above my head, stretching.  I was still a little sore from my training with Shady.  I glanced outside the window, noticing that it was just past sunset now.  Time sure does fly when you're reading a good book.  I smiled to myself as I walked downstairs and out onto the porch.  I leaned against the railing and craned my neck to get a better look at the spectacularly colored sky.  I'm not sure what it was, but the sunsets here were gorgeous beyond measure.  Way prettier than the ones I grew up with, that was for sure. 

    Against my will and without warning, I yawned.  Long and hard.  Man, Shady's training must have beaten me harder than I thought.  I'd slept right before heading over to her, and I was tired already?  Oh well.  You can never get enough sleep.  I shrugged, still yawning.  I became increasingly tired as I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, to the point that I'd barely flopped into bed when I conked out. 
Short chapter.  Meh. 

Shady is the teacher from hell, let's just leave it at that.
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