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Messenger: Closed Circuit

The valley outside was almost entirely obscured by snow. It piled high in deep drifts, drummed at the window and swirled in the air as if it had some greater purpose.

I watched for another few minutes, then turned away at the sound of fluttering in the vaulted archways. Still shaking off the snow from outside, Raptor Message Carrier 18 “Worcester” landed heavily upon a heavily-gloved hand. He folded his wings neatly and uttered a satisfied cry, thrusting out his chest to draw attention to the softly glowing message-medallion fastened there.

The helio- and radiograph arrays were almost useless at this time of year, when snowstorms were the prevalent weather type. At the moment, all nine heliographs were silent and still, the visibility so low that our only channel was the slow journeying of the raptor messengers.

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