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Spelldon noticed the rain was coming down really hard after the final bell. He had nowhere to be, so the witch hung around near the doors looking out over the courtyard. Out of the corner of his eye, he though he saw a stitched up ghoul looking out over the same downpour with a look of dread. Did she forget an umbrella. For whatever reason, he felt the need to help. He twists his hand to conjure his wide-brimmed witch hat and hold it out to the simulacrum.
“Hey. Need this? You don’t look like you want to get wet.”










