The gnome gives a half-nod, then tilts his head and looks at you intently. "Words, words... words can be motes
The gnome gives a half-nod, then tilts his head and looks at you intently. "Words, words... words can be motes stirred by the wind, a trifle, a wisp of smoke... but when they are spoken in the right time and place, words can possess the power of a storm. At some point, a long time hence, you'll recall this moment... and your answer."
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