49

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You peer at the plate. Your brain refuses to register what she's telling you.

"So." You begin, your stomach lurching a bit. "What exactly... is this?" You nod at the meat, not sure you want to hear the answer.

Roisin looks at you, confused by your question. Micaja looks into your eyes, his brow furrowing.

“You do remember what you are,” Micaja looks into your eyes, his brow furrowing, “don't you?”

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