"Oh, my bones are awful," Lyubov says, and rather inexplicably, grins. "Nefil privilege, nu? But nah, like, I meant ... uh, sorry, thou look'st like thou might be local to me, but like. I meant the Bones, as in ... the part of the world what isn't a dream." She looks away, suddenly self-conscious. "I've been to the Silver like, a lot? And in the Silver, have we got much strangeness! Including like ... cruise ships. Ghost cruise ships."
She pauses, and then adds, hastily, "I'm sorry about thy nerves. And the lung thing. That uh, that sounds. Bad."
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"Oh, my bones are awful," Lyubov says, and rather inexplicably, grins. "Nefil privilege, nu? But nah, like, I meant ... uh, sorry, thou look'st like thou might be local to me, but like. I meant the Bones, as in ... the part of the world what isn't a dream." She looks away, suddenly self-conscious. "I've been to the Silver like, a lot? And in the Silver, have we got much strangeness! Including like ... cruise ships. Ghost cruise ships."
She pauses, and then adds, hastily, "I'm sorry about thy nerves. And the lung thing. That uh, that sounds. Bad."