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No.36640 View View Original Report
>>The weary Pariah enjoyed the breeze. Wind always hurt, but the good kind of hurt. It...aired him out. Armor felt loose on flesh in such a place. Less humid than any place on the Hamlet. It reminded him of the ruins - that hollow feeling. He could get used to British North America. When was the last time he'd seen snow? Travelling in any direction he'd been told somewhere, some of it could be found. Would he freeze in the cold? The last thing he needed was more numbness.
>What a nice view to paint.