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[voice]

[The talking animals. It brings her back to another conversation, with the paint-covered girl on the rainy day.

She couldn't deal with it then. Couldn't deal with the implications of talking prey. And she can't now. It doesn't help the dreariness go away.]

I don't listen to them. [And just in case she doesn't get it, she adds in sternly:] I can't.

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