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A girl sits alone on the palace steps. Crosslegged, she is clad in some form of white ritual attire. She seems to stare outward, her stare obscured by a black strip of cloth, blindfolding her eyes. She sits, palms lifted towards the heaven. A drum rests before the girl, a gigantic stretch of tanned leather sitting quiet. A single drop falls from the girls palms, striking the drum. A tiny resonance, perhaps enough to startle a butterfly passing by. Another drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop. <b> * THUD * <b> * B O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O M * <b> A palm print glows red, <b> staining the leather. <b> <b> Drip . . . <b> Drop . . . <b> * B O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O M * <b> A second palm print splatters, <b> crimson ink upon the drum. <b> Drip . . . <b> Drop . . . The girl lifts her hands skywards once more. She lifts her head to follow. The crows in the courtyard leap from the trees, cawing and taking flight as the girl lets forth a demonic, wailing noise into the empty air. <b> ~ Z | |