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It started to pour again, heavier now... the rapid pattering against the carriage walls acting much akin to the incessant buzzing growing louder, thicker, in her own head. It was a buzzing of words, a buzzing of echoes... senses... instincts... that had long been stifled.
She felt the carriage give a turn, pulling into a long, sharp left that briefly crooked her right. Hearing beyond the storm and beyond the walls, the noisy bustle of the township began to gradually fade away, lo ...
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