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Summary
It was cold, but, thankfully, Silver Wolf kept her room quite hot. The heat wasn’t the first thing she noticed, though—however welcome it was. No, the first thing was the trash, and it made Kafka wrinkle her nose.
“Really, Wolfie, when are you gonna clean up in here?”
Silver Wolf, in lieu of a proper response, simply tilted her head backwards, away from her computer screens, staring at Kafka upside down. “You’re back.”
