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On
one
world
I
encountered
a
feline
species
who
spoke
only
in
song.
Beautiful.
Strangely
inviting
given
what
should
have
been
an
obvious
animosity.
Their
matriarch
sung
the
history
of
her
people
and
it
was
one
of
mystery,
reverence
and
wonder.
Their
world
was
dying
though.
Its
sun
growing
dark,
illuminating
them
by
moonlight
alone.
Still
they
sang.
Songs
of
joy,
for
the
time
they
had.
Not
songs
for
a
time
coming
to
an
end.
I
offered
to
take
them
to
another
world,
to
save
them.
But
they
just
smiled
and
shook
their
heads.
I
still
think
about
them
sometimes.
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