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It felt a bit self-indulgent to be making a pie in the middle of the Shadow Curse, but the apples would not last forever. And Last Light had an oven. Besides, her friends could use a bit of a pick me up, Thalassa thought, carefully peeling the final few apples. Gods knew she did.
As she flowed through the remaining preparations, her mind drifted back to the High Forest. Back to a home in the trees, her mother’s strong potter’s hands demonstrating how to crimp the crust closed. Back to a girl who did not know fear, death, or despair.