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[corporeity]

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✉️ text — un: astarion.

[thirsted]

[ Sent quickly, urgently, after his and Yeko's search concludes: ]

I went looking for the hair. I expect Yeko will shout it out loud sooner rather than later, but, just so you're hearing it from me:
We found a braid of hair on Misty Quigley's person, made of one lock of brunette hair, and one lock of blonde hair.
I know, last week, she was searched, and carried nothing. I know there are several other locks of hair yet unaccounted for.
We searched the whole commune, searched every pocket of every person, and this is all we found.
The rest must be somewhere else.

[corporeity]

[ fuck!!!!!! ]

Well, that is certainly… messy. A worthy endeavour turned kaleidoscopic in its complexity, by this cruel game.

She is a distraction, Astarion. The planting of the hair after the fact proves it, and yet the votes will favour a charlatan over a true wolf.

[thirsted]

I know. My vote is with you, my love.

I'll keep looking for the rest.

[corporeity]

Thank you, my love.