[ They wonder why he asks a question that he knows they cannot answer. He made them without a voice, after all. They cannot give him whatever information he searches for; it is a long story, and they know he would not be interested in it.
They simply stare at him once more and then shake their head a few times, as if to say what do you expect from me.
(The wings that were once his flutter irritably under the cloak in response to his query, lighting up the darkness briefly. Another discarded thing, left behind, that a discarded child made use of.) ]
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They simply stare at him once more and then shake their head a few times, as if to say what do you expect from me.
(The wings that were once his flutter irritably under the cloak in response to his query, lighting up the darkness briefly. Another discarded thing, left behind, that a discarded child made use of.)
]