“Nice to meet you, Irene” they said at the basic same speed, all of them ending either slighter slower or faster than the other.
Their unison was a little creepy, she decided, but there was nothing really wrong with them. They were just unusual children. “How nice it is that you’re all friends,” she said. “Or are you siblings?”
“We’re friends”, Spiniflora answered, her face rather stoic, just like her friends. This woman was rather happy, ordinary.
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