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She wakes up before she dies, gasping for air.
a single gesture
Time seems to slow down; the rest of the world is paused, muted. In this moment, there is only the girl and the thestral, united by death.
Parvati does not cry. She feels hollowed out, like the inside of a jug or a boat or a canal. She feels absent. She doesn’t feel much, just empty.
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