The boy winced in pain as he was drug par his chemise par Nicolette, and a fistful of hair held par Kori. Kori seemed to march her way through the watchtower, eyes glued vers l'avant, vers l’avant as she was silent. Nicolette scurried along, her ears tucked low as she waved at people. "Where are we even going?" The boy only stumbled along, taking in the sights around him. He got no answer, but was only pushed along more, this time plus ruggedly. Fang stopped mid-sentence when Kori and NIcolette entered the room, his eyes moving from one of his children to the other. "Who is this, and why does my daughter look like...
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