From b70afb946c7293cae8e3e4fd3864ea8ce80ad8bf Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Tue, 16 Jan 2024 15:32:51 -0800 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/motes/007.html | 4 +++- 1 file changed, 3 insertions(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/motes/007.html b/writing/post-self/motes/007.html index 1d533d351..23d1565bd 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/motes/007.html +++ b/writing/post-self/motes/007.html @@ -111,7 +111,9 @@

Did she not know what she was doing? Did she — A Finger Pointing! One of the first lines! — not consider the optics of an intraclade relationship for the rest of her stanza? The rest of the clade? Really, the A Finger Pointing ought to know better.

It was the first letter of several. It was the first time of many that she stood stock still, seethed, and counted to ten before opening her door to greet Beholden — her partner regardless of Hammered Silver’s haughty implications — with her usual smile once more firmly in place.

-

((Waking World and Dry Grass))

+

A Weapon Against The Waking World, it turned out, was perfectly happy to meet with them.

+

He had long ago taken the form of a stocky man, hairline receding, looking just enough like an Odist that one could see the potential +((Waking World and Dry Grass))

Letter after letter, topic after topic. They became rote. They became routine. They became a signature of Hammered Silver after every little decision that A Finger Pointing made which did not meet her standards. Every little decision that anyone made, if what True Name and Praiseworthy had to say was true.

And it was not just her, after all, was it?