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The Doll brushes her hair using her fingertips, humming a tune The Good Hunter was unfamiliar.
He sits there beside her on the stairs, his weapon resting on his lap. He stares at her idly.

‘What is that song?’

She looks at him, a smile visible on her features “It is one I do not remember, but it soothes me.”

He blinks, then turns his gaze to the flowers scattered around the dream.

‘It reminds me of my homeland.’

Doll placed a pale hand on his head. The Good Hunter sighed and then waited for the new hunter to arrive.