"Rather reminds me of home," Sherral remarks, wryly, following him. The door shuts behind them and, a second later, turns to snow and flutters to the ground. "But I profess I'm not dressed for the weather."
He pauses, glancing around. "How exactly are we meant to find the way out of this place?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-01-07 08:34 am (UTC)He pauses, glancing around. "How exactly are we meant to find the way out of this place?"