In too Deep

Shalamar Ovanisse

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OOC First Name
Linda
Wand
10 3/4 maple with core of unicorn hair
Shalamar looked at the glumpy weed that lay in her hand and could not contain a smile as she did so. Her older brothers had sent her on a gift of some gillyweed for when she finished her exams. Exhausting as the exams had been she had been more exhausted by the constant chatter of her room mates talking about boys into the early hours of the morning. Right now all she wanted was some relaxation time before she would have to begin packing her things to go home in a few days. As she stood at the edge of the lake she looked about her and it seemed quiet enough, a few stragglers far enough away from her so that she wouldn't have to make light conversation. It hadn't been as easy as she had thought it would be to make friends here. This was now the end of her second year and still there was nobody she could seriously call a friend. Everyday she witnessed the companionship of others and at first could no more care about it than she cared about the silly game of quidditch but now, now it was seeping into her consciousness everyday that she was a loner here. That she had yet to make her mark or do anything to set herself apart from the crowd.

Removing her skirt, socks, shoes and blouse Shalamar stood in her simple plain black one piece. More modest than what other girls around here wore but she did not think flaunting her body was any healthy pursuit at all. She put the gilly weed into her mouth and chewed it slowly before swallowing, it wasn't long before she felt as if the air were being sucked out of her and quickly she dove into the water as gills began to form at the side of her neck. Her hands and feet became webbed immediately and with absolute grace she cut through the water and swam deep into the darkest areas. She wasn't sure how long the gillyweed would hold out for and did not want to take any chances.

Shalamar swam in and out of the placton and when she met up with a mermaid nearly froze in fear but it was all good. The mermaid simply indicated for her to swim back again, to move away from that particular area and she should have. Hindsight was truly a gift indeed and she would wish dearly later that she had done what the mermaid had wanted her too. The long tentacle that emerged went unnoticed at first as she continued to swim about after the mermaid had left. As Shalamar did a twirl and some somesaults under water she felt something brush off her leg. Looking down and thinking it only a plant she actually attempted to scream underwater when she saw the tentacle begin to wrap itself around her ankle.

Luckily she was slim and she hurriedly kicked off, looking upwards and straining to get to the surface. She did not know how long she was down there for, she did not realise that time had passed by all too quickly until the gills began to shrink and her webbed limbs returned to normal. She looked down in a state of panic to see what appeared to be a giant squid come after her, struggling the last few strokes to break through the water, Shalamar barely made it to the surface. She literally just broke through, gasped for breath when she suddenly passed out and began to sink below again.
 
"Accio Broomstick."

The broom came shooting out of the safety of the shed where it was kept in, and the boy grabbed hold of it as he shot past him, swinging himself onto his trusted 'steed'. Flying across the air and hovering slightly above the Lake, the Slytherin sat on the broomstick quietly, in mild contemplation of what he was to do. Reaching down into the murky depths of the lake, his pale hand grasped hold of one of the girl's arms with surprising strength in his grip. With a swing of his arm, he dragged the girl out of the water and onto his lap, and then positioned her on the broom against him, shifting slightly so there was some space for her to sit in.

Henric Lee soared into the air, high into the skies and away from the waters, skimming about the Lakefront and reaching higher altitudes as he said conversationally to no-one in particular, "Usually, people don't go swimming in Autumn." He tilted his head in thought; "Nor, do they try and play tag with the Giant Squid." Noting she was out cold, he halted the broomstick and hovered a few feet above the air, taking hold of her chin as he laid her body down, and pressing his lips against her in an attempt to revive her. He did this multiple times, breathing air into her and then pushing his hands against her chest to try and expel the water.
 
Shalamar's world became surrounded by blackness, she thought she could hear voices. Her mothers, her fathers even her siblings but part of her knew this was all wrong. How could she be hearing them, weren't they back home? Her heart felt as if it were about to explode within her but even then she felt a serenity she had never felt before. The darkness was overwhelming, almost too welcoming and then a slight glimmer. A fraction of light sparkled in the distance and Shalamar tried to focus on it. But the darkness felt more comfortable, felt too easy to succumb to.

The time seemed to pass so slowly as her body was lifted by the boy from the water and carried her so high into the air that she was lucky she was unconscious or she would have fainted anyway. Her body was protected by his as he flew the two to safety. The boy placed his lips on hers, attempting to breath life into her before his hands pushed on her chest to relief her body of any water.


Shalamar felt the briefest of touches on her mouth but still the darkness surrounded her, she knew she should go to the light. The light that seemed to be lips on hers, wind blowing through her hair, her body feeling lighter than air almost as if she were flying but she had gone downwards, down into the water. So deep the darkness was engulfing her and yet the light pressure she felt now stirred her. The light grew brighter as if beckoning her.

A fit of coughing wracked her body as she spluttered water that she had swallowed, her eyes flickered opened as she attempted to sit up. Only to see a boy holding her close to him and then she realised her feet and body were no longer on solid ground or on any ground but merely on a thin stick and being held by the boy. Her mouth hung open in a terrified gasp, as she reached up and clung to him. Shivering and still somewhat dizzy she looked over his shoulder. seeing clouds for miles in every direction. Slowly she moved her head so she could look at the boy. Her chocolate brown eyes met black ones and all she could do was stare into their depths. The memory of drowning returned to her and she gasped again.

Her voice when she managed to speak was soft and utterly gentle.
"You saved me" it was more of a statement than a question, why they were so high up in the air was beyond her but she was safe. She hadn't drowned, this boy who she knew as Henric Lee a fellow third year and of Slytherin House had saved her. There wasn't much of his exploits that she was not aware of, many of the girls spoke about him. He had managed to secure his name in the gossip magazine as well connected with another third year if she remembered correctly. His reputation proceeded him and yet, for all the stories of manipulation and stunts on the quidditch pitch to thwart his rivals, he had rescued her.

While one hand still clung to him, she reached the other to her mouth. She had felt she was sure of it now, lips on hers. Her eyes immediately went to his mouth before she looked back into his eyes again. There were so many questions she felt she wanted to ask but none would come to her. Shalamar was brought up in a world of privelege and every inch of her was feminine and gentle, it did not matter how lethal she had become with her wand. First and foremost she was right now a young girl on the brink of something she was not sure she was ready for. Her heart felt released of the pressure that had pushed on her earlier and though she wanted to be on solid ground, Shalamar also knew she wanted to stay here with Henric's arms holding her savely against him, flying in the air so high no one in the world could reach them. She was at his mercy here and for the first time in her life, felt unsure.
 
The broom was floating lazily above the air, drifting along every so slightly while Henric worked. When he felt a flutter of life in her chest, he leaned away from her and pressed against her chest again. While other boys would have been conscious of the fact they were feeling a girl's chest, Henric's face was impassive and he had little, if no reaction at all, to this. He pressed his lips to hers once more, tried to give her air, and repeated the process twice. By the second time, she started spluttering and the expelled the water she had swallowed. And then, for some reason, she held onto him for dear life. Why was that?

Henric observed her quietly; she was delicate, it seemed, and appeared to suffer from a fear of heights. He glanced down for a moment and noted if you fell from his height, you wouldn't die. He was about to point that out to her when she suddenly stated that he had saved her. Henric blinked once, those cold gray orbs devoid of any emotion sparkling with a slight curiosity. "Evidently." He said pleasantly, his voice coy and silky, enough to drive any woman over the top and make any man reconsider before engaging him. "If someone is drowning before you, the first reaction you have is to save them." The Slytherin gazed up at the baby-blue sky before adding, "Unless you're the one doing the drowning, of course..."

Sitting side by side on the broom, and feeling her grip upon him, Henric tilted his head to the side and stared into her eyes; his black orbs were like tunnels, with nothing at the end of them - they just kept on going and going. Holding her gaze like a Basilisk, he reached forward with his pale hand and held up her chin, cocking his head to the other side now. "Are you afraid?" He asked silently, his voice a seductive purr. He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, then fastened the warm article of clothing around her. His arms staying wrapped around her neck after he had done this, to keep her warm. "I can touch down if you so wish." He mused, noting she seemed to have felt some shock at being so far from the ground.
 
His voice like his eyes were possessive, stealing any equilibrium she thought she may have left. She felt like a captive, like The Nightingale in the childrens story her father had often told her about. There was nothing she could do now, she was being held in a cage as a welcome prisoner. Content to stay there once he did not leave her. Shalamar blinked slowly, her slender frame felt the cold air rush against it but Henric placed his cloak about her, asking her if she were afraid. She could try to lie but what was the point in that? Shalamar had never lied in her life and did not want to start now, not to him.

"Yes" her own voice was like the gentlest of breezes, it held none of the seduction of his own but yet it seemed to tease the senses. As if her softness, her gentle nature demanded the right to be protected, commanded it of anyone who dared to be a genuine hero. She could feel the fear in every inch of her, she had never been this high in her life, had never literally just been saved from near death. Yes she was afraid, afraid of the feelings that the boy who held her close was creating inside of her.

"I can touch down if you so wish." his arms stayed about her and Shalamar looked once more into the deep dark pools that were his eyes before shaking her head slowly and though she was already in the crook of his arm, protected by his body she allowed herself to relax and lean against him. Her hands slowly relaxed as well, though she now let them slide to his chest as she let her head rest there too.

"I am not usually so fearful of flying. I do not like it much but I have never been this high" she looked up at him again, knowing she was saver here with him than she was on the ground. It was a strange feeling, for she did not know him though she believed the stories that were told about him. Why she didn't beg to land she did not know, she simply knew that his arms about her were holding her like she had never been held in her life. If what she was feeling were to end right now, she would be devastated but at least she would know that she could feel. That her sheltered upbringing had not cost her dearly at all, that a heart did beat within her and now it was beating for this strange boy.
 
The Slytherin cocked his head for a moment, poised so that he watched her carefully, pale orbs devoid of emotion scanning her; they bore into her eyes, the uncomfortable sensation that could act as a defense mechanism against the faint-hearted or the weak. Keeping one arm slung around her neck casually, he used the other to guide the broom down lower from the high altitude he so preferred to the bindings of gravity to the earth. Floating at a mid-level height, he flew past a turret with controlled ease of his broom and glanced down upon the ground and the little dots of life walking around. From this height, other humans were no more significant than little ants.

"There are no limits to how high you can fly." The boy mused, his enigmatic nature showing itself again. "But your wings can be clipped if circumstances demand it." Leaning back and holding her chin up, staring into her eyes inquisitively, he said simply, in a deathly quiet voice, "And are you well enough, now, to go waltzing off on your own?" He flashed her a bewitching artificial smile.
 
Shalamar's entire existence had been cocooned within the protective shelter of her family. Her father adored her, as did her older brothers and all were so very protective of her. As a result of this she had never known what it was like to simply spread her wings on her own, to reach for her own dreams and possibilities until she had come to Hogwarts. Here she had found it impossible to make friends, she wished fervently that she could find it easy to talk with others but she couldn't. Her accent was a subtle mix of the beauty of China and the blends of the western cultures her family had moved to whilst doing business. Now she found herself flying extremely high in the air with possibly the most notorious boy at Hogwarts, with his arm about her as if he possessed her and she did not mind at all.

She knew many would think her weak, would look at the genteel slender body and consider her a walk over. Would hear the soft voice and reckon they could easily fool her but it would be the other way around. There was alot about the little dragon, the 'jade princess' that was not for all to see. Her graceful smooth movements were not merely to use for proper etiquette, Shalamar was more a paradox than the students she sat with everyday gave her credit for. For the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts she felt elated, felt herself being released while being held captive within the arms and eyes of Henric.

He tilted her chin and stared into her eyes. Her heart felt as if it fluttered like the wings of a tiny hummingbird. Would he kiss her? A slight tinge of colour suffused her cheeks as she stared back at him. How did her thoughts wander there and why did her own self betray her to him? Surely he would have noticed her blush and be disgusted by yet another girl fawning over him. This was not who she wanted to be, not another notch or girl that he played with.
She could only nod her head at first before her voice lifted like a soft melancholy tune to his ears.

"I think I am well enough" he would land and leave her to her own devices. She would walk on unsteady legs back to the school, to her dormitory. She would walk through corridors and sit in the great hall and behave as normal while inside her a tornado would rage. Had he unlocked a heart that had never known it had been secured so tightly? Looking at his mouth that smiled so at her she wished she were brave enough to reach forward and steal from him a kiss but this was also not who she was. Her eyelids fluttered closed for the briefest of seconds imagining what it would feel like to be kissed at all, but she could not conjure such a thought for she had never been kissed before. Shalamar opened her eyes and sighed gently looking down, realising how high they had gotten she gasped. Turning her head swiftly and hiding it in his shoulder. Perhaps heights were not a companion she could trust but was there really any?
 
His pale lips crept up on either side into a cold smile; he leaned back, and held her head close to his as she buried it in his cloak. "You lie." He said softly, the words a soft murmur, with no genuine emotion behind it. "You're afraid." He stroked her hair as he guided the broom down to lower and lower altitudes. "Or, a better word to use would be ... uncertain." As his broom flew to a low-enough altitude, he promptly dismounted and slid off the broom, leaping down to the few feet left while carrying her in his strong grip. Landing on the ground with a barely audible 'thump!', Henric raised his head, apparently unfazed as he slid her from his hold.

Although he loosened any grip he had on her, he still had a hand pressing her head against his chest protectively. The other hand reached up and grasped hold of his broom which flew his way, then stabbed it into the ground like the flat side of a spear. Henric watched her silently, like a judge, a Reaper, an agent of Death. His voice seemed to be woven of ice and fire as he spoke next: "Are you alright now?"
 
Her head against his, his words in her ear. Shalamar thought she was being undone. Did he spin his web so intricately for every girl? How many others had fallen? She felt the hand that stroked her hair and closed her eyes as she held close to him. She could say now for certain that yes, she was afraid of being up this high. Of feeling this elated, of being so foolish as not to have guarded herself against this type of thing. The hand that rested on his chest slid up slowly over his shoulder, touching the wisps of hair at the base of his neck. She was not being bold in her movements, they were innocent and naive as she was.

She was so light, it was a few moments before she registered that the wind was no longer blowing in her hair or that her feet were dangling dangerously in the air. They were on the ground and he had lifted her effortlessly from his broom. She thought for certain now he would laugh at her, push her aside and not demean himself any further. Her pureblood seemed to hackle at this, the cosseted upbringing she had - felt she was entitled to be adored but Shalamar knew better than that. How her parents had raised her and who she was were two different things, she was partly a fabrication of them but she truly was so much more than the Chinese jade princess they wanted her to be. For now she was a young girl in the arms of the first boy who had ever dared touch her, ever dared speak to her. The boy who had rescued her, thrilled her, frightened her but for reasons other than those that frightened everyone else. She was afraid of the feelings he had wrought in her so quickly, perhaps they had been there all along, lying dormant. Simply waiting, biding their time to be released and look who had chosen to be her hero.

Her head still lay against his chest, her hand slowly moved down to his chest again as timidly she moved her face to look into his. Was she alright now? She shook her head while at the same time she said "yes".

If she walked away from him now as he would want her too, she may never see him but for classes. If he walked away so she could watch him leave her, she would feel the pain creep slowly in to rip the fledgling heart out of her. How could he make her feel so complete in such a short space of time? Was it simply hero worship? Shalamar's hand moved tentatively to his face as he looked at her, her slender soft gentle fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. He could hurt her so badly and she knew this and yet, she felt compelled to stay where she felt most save and most in danger, close beside him. She should speak, say something. Anything at all that made sense or made no sense. Once words were spoken that was the main thing. Her chocolate brown eyes looked at him quizzically. Could he see inside her soul? Would he see his own reflection there locking the cage on her heart?

"Thank you" the words were like the sound of wind chimes tinkling gently in the breeze, "Thank you Henric".
His name sounded alien yet strangely beautiful on her tongue and she wished to repeat it again and again but these were thoughts and dreams of girls who were silly and fancied themselves in love. Shalamar needed to walk away before she was lost completely in him but her hands would not move from him, her eyes could not be torn from him. She knew if anyone could, it would be Henric who would break the spell and cast her back without a second glance.
 
Those same cold orbs flickered to her as he observed her wordlessly, his mask of perfection seemed to wither for a moment before being renewed, twice as perfect as before - a veritable avatar of what every girl would want. An icon of their dreams. "You know my name?" He asked pleasantly, the question poised with enough innocence it was obvious he didn't mean to demean her; Henric Lee was sometimes thoroughly unaware of his own infamy. His tendency to change emotions and faces like an actor from the Victorian opera switching masks was astounding, bewildering, and at times - Dangerous.

"Well, it seems like I am at a disadvantage, because I cannot, recall, or do not know what name to address you by..." His voice was now a light, melodic tune, as he twirled the broomstick in his hands, he cocked his head to the side. Sliding the broom to his back, and sending his hands forth, he dangled his hands limply while using his wrists to coil around the broom's shaft as he leaned towards her with an enigmatic smile printed on his face. "Pray, tell." He went even closer to her, a proximity which sometimes caused the girls of weak heart - and boys of weak heart - to faint right there and then. "What's your name?"
 
Of course she would know his name, only a fool would not know her hearts enemy, her hearts only desire but these were only newly formed factions, she knew him first from the Hogwarts Express. There had only been the slightest of looks in his direction but since then she had watched and observed, not just him but others in her year who seemed to think the world belonged to them or that the world owed them something. The wonderful thing about being quiet and inconspicuous was that no one knew you were there, you became almost invisible. Shalamar felt as if she had been this way since she had started at Hogwarts and after the constant attention from home had revelled in the obscurity. No one knew her here, no one knew she was from a wealthy family, from two ancient Chinese dynasties, from pureblood stock that made all her other siblings proud but she merely accepted. She looked at him and now she smiled too. Her lips like rosebuds turned upwards as if praising him.

"Yes I know your name" she bowed her head a little, knowing before he said it that he would not know who she was. She was not the dirt beneath his feet or the air around him, she was not the strings that pulled his heart or the gentle breeze that caressed him. She was no one to him, he had not even reacted to her slightest touch. She was inconsequential.

"My name... " would he remember it again? what was the point in telling him, he would not remember her or it by tomorrow. He was being polite, etiquette demanded it. He was standing even closer to her now but she welcomed this closeness.
"Why would you know it? You do not know me and by tomorrow you will have forgotten you ever met me".
Her own words hurt her to say them aloud but the truth was often a dagger pierced through the hearts of women by the smiles of man.

"I would rather be unknown that to be forgotten".

 
The boy seemed mildy perturbed, but his only reaction was to smile - a genuine, cold smile - few rarely saw his real smiles beyond those he put on as a facade to deter those who would come forth to seek his companionship. His true smile, as he now allowed this girl to see, was chilling; like a blizzard, it was beautiful from the outside, but once you were caught in it, it was hard, if not impossible, to claw your way out. "Now that's an interesting declaration..." He murmured, seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts now. He held his pale hand to her cheeks, tilting his head again as he viewed her with a sparkle of curiosity in his pale orbs. "I don't forget people." He stated simply, leaning back as he chuckled, a low thrum of laughter. "I simply do not see the need to remember identities by names."

His eyes fluttered to a close. "Names are chosen for you, not by you. If it is not decided by yourself, then your name is nothing more than a popular rumor."
 
Shalamar had never needed to be weary of anything in all her young life and now when she should have been running for cover, locking up her heart and draining the moat around it she was simply letting him in. Giving him the keys to her very soul and would not begrudge him any of it. His smile was so beautiful, she had often thought her father a handsome man and indeed many girls considered her brothers handsome but right now looking at Henric, she could only use the term beautiful to describe him. Did people consider boys beautiful? She wasn't sure and quite frankly didn't care. He was so utterly close to her, reaching out now to touch her cheeks with his pale hands, tilting his head which was mere inches from her own. She watched every line, every pore, every expression and regaled it all to memory. The slivers of silver that seemed to dot his black eyes. How more captivated could she become?

"If you do not see the need then there is no reason for a name" she told him as he closed his eyes, the fleeting thought that he may kiss her crossed her mind and she faltered. She would not know how to kiss him back, she would fail terribly and he would laugh at her. But maybe he was simply teasing her, playing with her. Shalamar listened to what he said, watching his mouth as the words fell from his perfect lips.

"Then let my name be a rumour you have heard today" her voice still so utterly gentle was almost like a sweet caress, "In my country is a story of a giant fish that could change into a giant bird, who could fly great distances and soar to great heights. Today I swam like this fish Kun and flew from the water through the clouds as if I had giant wings like a Peng. You took me where I have never been, today I am ... Peng".
With the tenderest of touchest she kissed the tips of her fingers and touched them to his mouth. He would not kiss her, she was not like the girls she often saw around him. Still he held her captive, his hands on her cheeks and around her heart.
 
Henric seemed to chuckle, a melodious sound that rang through the air like the thrum of a church bell. "I know the story." He replied, his eyes appearing to dance with flames as he recalled memories of the past. Skilled in many cultures and languages as he was, he was still the most gifted in his own tongue and country. "You are from China?" It was not a question, and more of a statement, a declaration of their origins from the same place. "Very well, if you wish to keep enigmatic."

The boy canted his head to the side as she touched his fingers to his lips; he was used to attention, and used to a cold, perfect marble stone face that opened to no-one. She was no different, but she was quite bold, and she bore a hint of resemblance to her. A wry smile crossed his features, as he took hold of her fingers and kissed them lightly, before lowering her hand. "Stay out of the water." He mused, merriment playing across his lips as he turned and walked away from her.
 
She had not meant to be enigmatic, still convinced that he would careless about her whether he knew her name or not. His laugh sent alarm bells sounding in her ears. He would leave her now and it was her own fault. Her body already felt the cold as still clad only in her modest swimsuit he began to move away from her. Lightly he kissed the tips of her fingers, the fingers she had touched to his mouth. They tingled at the barest touch he gave them and she felt as if she were being thrown back into her own world of society and privelege. It was her uncles voice she heard now, not truly a relation but her fathers best friend who had taken it upon himself to teach, train and mold the Ovanisse children to how the world would need them to be. She had been no different but had up until this very moment forgotten everything, that her young mind had been taught.

'When your forces are dulled, your edge is blunted, your strength is exhausted and your supplies are gone, then others will take advantage of your debility and rise up. Then even if you have wise advisers you cannot make things turn out well in the end.'

She heard his voice now as if it were right beside her, drilling her in the teachings of Sun Tzu. Why she thought they were necessary now she did not know but she had been dulled by nearly drowning, weak and unconscious she had been blunted, too exhausted she could only stay in his power as he 'rose up' carrying her away from where she would be save. She had given him the edge, she had been the weak and he had taken advantage of it. No amount of word games concealing who she was would change that fact. Shalamar was on dying ground, she knew it. As he began to walk away she knew it.

'When you will survive if you fight quickly and perish if you do not, this is called dying ground'.
the voice of her uncle once more, she wanted to stubbornly tell me she had already figured that much out herself. She stood her ground watching his retreating form.

"I am sorry" her words were strong and true, her voice still gentle was not a voice of a weak person, "You saved my life and I have been disrespectful".
She bowed to him, not knowing whether he turned to see the respect she paid him now for his attention to her.
"My name is Shalamar Jeon Ovanisse. Forgive me" it was now her turn to leave his presence. Her legs felt so shaky, her body still very vunerable after her ordeal. She walked to where her uniform was bundled, the birthmark on her shoulder of the dragon visible as she turned her back to him. She had wronged him by touching him as she had but how could she not help it when he had solicited himself so closely to her. Picking up her skirt she slipped it on and very carefully did up the zip. She felt the first wave of exhaustion engulf her but fought it. Promising she would take herself off to the hospital wing, a near drowning was not always so easily fixed by a high flying ride on a broom.

As she bent to pick up her blouse, the darkness washed over her and the ordeal of the past hour took over, consuming the gentle spirit and slight body. Shalamar slipped into unconsciousness with only her uncles words berating her folly echoing in her head.
'Ordinarily, an army likes high places and dislikes low ground, values light and despises darkness.'
He had taken her to high ground, he had pulled her from the darkest depths of the water and she had been rude and disrespectful to him. She deserved the darkness that crept in now, she deserved the feeling of desolation that flooded her.
 
Eyes like a Hawk's watched, as if a predator amused by his prey. When she bowed, the boy purred to himself as he thought about the varied reasons for her newfound respect. Shortly afterward, though, she seemed to sway - swoon, more like it - and collapsed promptly on the ground. Turning, he walked over to her quietly with a certain feline grace to his movements; sliding his arms under her back, he heaved her body up, and slung her over his shoulder. He glanced up at the castle, and then strode all the way to the Hospital Wing from where he was, meeting with a few raised eyebrows and shocked expressions on the way.

She would find herself in the Hospital Wing when she awoke, with only a black feather lying beside her bed.
 

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