062: Feysight

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"Tell me what you see," The old woman said. I squinted at the figure in her back garden.
"She's blue, about maybe three inches tall? And she's got kinda butterfly wings." She smiled.
"So you can see them. The feysight is a rare and precious gift."
"She's in this weird kind of armor, and she's holding a glowing sword." Her smile faded.
"And she's riding on a bunny, but it's got horns. Gosh, they're cute."
"She's arrayed for war?"
"Oh, she has some friends," I said, looking out at the rapidly assembling cavalry.
"We should run," the old woman whispered.

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