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east of the sun and west of the moon, dear
[https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252387] - - public:opalsong
Before he follows, Shisui takes one more look out the cold glass, and shivers. He can hear the floe grinding against the surrounding ice, an eerie, disconcerting sound, like a massive beast growling in the darkness. The howl of the wind is a high, lonely counterpoint, a forsaken sound, and Shisui grits his teeth and forces himself to ignore it. He’ll get used to the sound someday. He won't have a choice.
