"We didn't pick the clothes, idiot," Auden countered, "Our mum did. She made them herself, because she thinks she's good at that sort of thing. And you didn't answer my question. How old are you?"
Fox stifled a giggle, enjoying watching her elder sister argue with the boy. Ira, meanwhile, snatched up a handful of bread-sticks from the food table and began to slowly demolish them.
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SOPHIE: BtN's resident whimsical insomniac fairytale-junkie!
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“Hope is the thing with feathers"
-----Emily Dickinson
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