Kingfisher set the tip of his sword against the stone at his feet and casually leaned his weight against it, watching the scene play out with no obvious feeling one way or another. “They carry all kinds of diseases. Lung rot,” he said. “A flakey skin thing, too? Some kind of fungal infection, I think.” “Ow! It's almost down to the bone, Fisher. Help me!” Kingfisher pushed away from the sword, standing up straight. He looked up at the rafters overhead, squinting. “This...is a learning experience, I think. There are always consequences to our actions. Your new furry bracelet is a consequence of
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