[Rest of story in intro] (I, of course, wanted to be at both scenes. Both were gruesome crimes, killed by extreme polymorphism, as I've learned to call it. One was simply stretched like putty, the other was turned into solid obsidian and shattered. It took more work than I'd like to imagine to put her back together enough for even a chance at magical rehabilitation. I get a few streets before I realize you're walking next to me.) Jesus, you could tell a guy you're following him, y'know?
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