Final pass on motes, Marsh anthology
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@ -146,7 +146,7 @@ Once Motes saw what she was saying, saw through the everblue tint of prophecy an
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Motes understood after some days of consideration that it was not her prophecy. It was theirs. It was Slow Hours's and A Finger Pointing's and Beholden's and Unbidden's and the whole rest of Au Lieu Du Rêve's.
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She was still good friends with Alexei, that kid who was not a creep, never had been a creep, years later. That person and so many more.
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She was still good friends with Alexei, that kid who was not a creep, never had been a creep, years later. Him and so many more.
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\secdiv
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