[ She inclines her head thoughtfully as he speaks, looking out at nothing as his words wash over her. As his pictures fill her thoughts. She lets them, like a sponge absorbing water, without releasing a single sign of her own thoughts in kind. ]
Who knows how long we might live, as hosts. What do you think will happen to us?
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Who knows how long we might live, as hosts. What do you think will happen to us?