*Ginger stares down at his hands, contemplating... Well, himself. His have have been erratic, spontaneous, and even violent of late, and he wonders what the hell is happening to him. He looks up, seeing that he's digging his nails into the palms of his hands. He stands up.
"When are we leaving?"
English
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Got it *i walk with your rifle in my hand and drop it off at your quarters then I watch from close by but out of sight*
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