ironcladanemones
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changeling


Notes

They left you, wild thing. They left you amidst the burning iron, the concrete maze. They chained you in this skin that is not yours, but is all you have. And the howling wind, the crackling fire, the cold glittering of the stars sings of a home you have never known. You itch within this too tight skin, changeling. You long for the world.

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