She can see it, shadowed shining something, some little spark of recognition of her (one of her) in one shape or another. Slowly, she steps to the side into the vision he picked and walks forward.
"Not that one. Remembered the forgot," and River primly leans in to sniff at the contents of his bottle.
no subject
"Not that one. Remembered the forgot," and River primly leans in to sniff at the contents of his bottle.