What would they call a library? he wondered. Vru'vru'poh? he chuckled to himself. He opened the book to the back page, the index to find out, when something on the inside of the back cover caught his eye. It was a quick scribble, a message to Gregor. Cedric was feeling light-hearted in his linguistic adventures, and the man who asks no questions allowed himself to indulge his curiosity, just this once.
As Onion was putting the finishing touches to her row of the phonetic character "dae", Cedric's sudden tortured cries pierced her concentration and she dropped the quill from her fingertips. Again, Cedric's eyes scanned the inside back cover, hoping it was only a trick of the mind.
To the only person in the world who doesn't have to spread their legs for my affection,
Keep your wits about you and remember to come home some day. If I find you've gone over to the natives I'll drag your ass out of there, I don't care what woman's bed I have to pull you from! Take care of yourself brother. Rüern keep you pure, but not too pure.
Cedric
Whimpering and at a loss for words, Cedric tumbled to Onion's makeshift campfire study and seized the pen now lying in the dirt. Before she could react, he dipped the quill in the ink fountain and next to the signature in the dictionary, he began to write out his name.
*Insert picture of signatures here*
The pen was bolder in the former rendition of his name. Cast in confident strokes, the letters stood out as a signature unbowed. His current inscription was laid thickly, full of angst and caution. Every line bore the weight of uncertainty. Nonetheless, there was no mistaking the kinship of those two signatures.
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