Idumea, Motes Edits, names
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@ -86,7 +86,7 @@ At this, Motes winced.
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He frowned. ``That's what happened, isn't it? You had someone cut contact because they learned of it? One of your cocladists?''
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``Yeah,'' she mumbled. ``She already knew, though, she just found out one of her up-trees was still talking to me.''
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``Yeah,'' she mumbled. ``She already knew, though. She just found out one of her up-trees was still talking to me.''
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``She made her own up-trees cut contact, too?'' He furrowed his brow. ``Aren't you guys like super-dispersionistas?''
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@ -134,7 +134,7 @@ Motes scrubbed her paws over her face to wake up more fully. ``How do you mean?'
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Dry Grass smiled faintly. ``I will let that slide. She is \emph{definitely} a bitch, yes.'' A pause, and then she continued, ``But it rather was my fault, my dear. I mentioned that I had been visiting after that evening with the salad and maccy chee. I made her mad, then told her to go fuck herself.''
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Motes sat for a moment in silent, watching the movie, half-listening at the muffled audio that made its way through the cone of silence. ``I had guessed, yeah.''
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Motes sat for a moment in silence, watching the movie, half-listening at the muffled audio that made its way through the cone of silence. ``I had guessed, yeah.''
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Her cocladist frowned. ``That is why I am sorry. So much happened, and I started it without really thinking of how it would impact everyone.''
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