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Summary
Judelow looked at himself on the mirror, shock written all over his face. There were petals. Yellow petals of a daffodil you'd find in a plains biome. It reminded him of a myth he'd read about. Narcissus.
He should ask someone about this.
It was stuck on his body, coming from his mouth, gently falling on to the ground.
Sharpness didn't do this as a prank, right?
This isn't a prank... right?
