The twins look at the falling snow with sudden, wretched nostalgia that they cannot anchor to a context. The blue peacock shivers and his twin embraces him, laying her head on his shoulder for a brief moment.
"Wolves," she says, with some distaste. "Shit, we don't know nothing about wolves. We're city kids."
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"Wolves," she says, with some distaste. "Shit, we don't know nothing about wolves. We're city kids."