 Kaplinski Rival Sorting Hat Machine
Lifting one of the rags and dipping it in a bowl of water, which she had retrieved from the kettle, she raised it to his cuts and dabbed them, squinting as she did so, feeling sure he would either swipe away her care or flinch at the pain that she had inflicted. Hiding her hands beneath her cloak, she breathed heavily, tears cascading down her face, still trying to banish the urge to chop her hands off. |