（ oh good, he was worried he'd have a real bleeding heart on his hands. ain't many of them left in his world, so coming around to the fact there may be a few here is slow going, but he catches at the tip of the rod, traces down the line to the little makeshift hook. he's got a tin of freeze-dried crickets, which seem to be this world's idea of a snack, and he skewers one on. ）
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That's the spirit.