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Life has struck again, and ...

What do you say when one moment you're panicked for your Evil Twin's immortal soul, and then a half-hour later, your spate of button-mashing has produced the exact effects you were looking for, if not in a way you were expecting?

My newest bondmate is now single-minded in purpose, and we've established for once and for all that his church is, in essence, a church of perfectionists looking to get absolute control over their lives to avoid unpredictable emotional spikes, for ill or for good. I'd die without emotional spiking.

I can taste some of the farewells in the air already. It's rare that I start out-and-out bawling these days, and even more rare that I do so when not in the company of either my Priestess-Confessor or her left hand man.

On the one hand, I got what I wanted. It took more than a month, but I wound up doing what I set out to. I was the woman, the gimp for the job.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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