rdfs:comment
| - To celebrate the Winter Tryst, Ai-Naidar wear no House sigils, no caste-marks, and no identifying colors. They strip their speech and don their masks, and even the cold is complicit, for it inspires the layers of enigmatic costumes. To the parks they fly, gaily-clad or somber, outrageous in anonymity. And there they mingle, dance, and couple beneath the trees, hoping for Winter's children to enrich their families.
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abstract
| - To celebrate the Winter Tryst, Ai-Naidar wear no House sigils, no caste-marks, and no identifying colors. They strip their speech and don their masks, and even the cold is complicit, for it inspires the layers of enigmatic costumes. To the parks they fly, gaily-clad or somber, outrageous in anonymity. And there they mingle, dance, and couple beneath the trees, hoping for Winter's children to enrich their families. The dances' moves and allowed touches are codified, but they are salacious in the extreme, all the more for never knowing whose hand flows over one's wrist, whose tail flicks against one's ankle, whose fingers trail over one's waist.
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