"... You sure are stuck 'n that whole half elven thing, huh."
lips purse rather than thin, as if wishing to say something but knowing well that it wouldn't help. a sort of distinct understanding that one could see how they'd be smacked for their words like they'd said something salacious to a nun.
"You are who ya say ya are. You are Rigmor - or WHOEVER you choose to be - first before y' are any label after that. So hung up on what makes parts of you that you fail to see that you are a WHOLE before the part."
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