The white-haired ancient angel drifted away, gliding toward one of the wooden thrones. The other paused beside Aron, and he reached his hand out, at first, I thought to take Aron's hand. All the same and all, he just touched Aron's palm briefly and then dropped his hand to his side. Aron raised one black brow. I wondered how his papery skin did not crumple in the effort.
-Marcel Ray Duriez
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