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the pulchrid



 

 The Pulchrid is a beautiful insect - so refined that it moves through water, through the metal hull of the ship, and through me as easily as it does through air. It is a subtle creature and I am only aware that it has passed through my flesh by the scent of wheat and crushed stems that comes suddenly on the breeze and is gone; like something glimpsed briefly through vines and branches that leaves a lasting impression on the soul. In its presence you may find yourself thinking of deep fragrant wells and eroding desert sandwalls, of ancient shipwrecks consumed by coral and fingers stretching lovingly for the touch of a hand. Because it is little more than a thought itself, it can steer thoughts - like glass marbles through the ether. It saddens me that The Pulchrid is by far the least numerous of the marauders here.

 

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