[ ... Oh. It still strikes Rin as tragic, to see Shenhe in that memory—haunted, a survivor, and the stark contrast to the girl she was before her father left her in that cave.
He's not the type to be forward with touch, but his fingers brush the crook of her arm, tilting his head closer to look at her hair more closely. ]
That explains it. [ And then looking back at her. ] That was a beautiful crane.
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He's not the type to be forward with touch, but his fingers brush the crook of her arm, tilting his head closer to look at her hair more closely. ]
That explains it. [ And then looking back at her. ] That was a beautiful crane.