A glass house of sorts obligingly grew on the planet around her as she listened, though nothing like the glass house he saw. Larger, for a start, and merely encompassing the foliage already naturally existant in the area. A few ponds in rivulates and then converging into a proper lake also take shape as Jim lets her mind wander.
"I'm afraid I was never very good with mythological history," she says, somewhat apologetic.
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"I'm afraid I was never very good with mythological history," she says, somewhat apologetic.