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Of course, Gu∂rún HAS a mirror at home...

The baby wailed again. On the birth bed sat Ragna, looking ruddy and clutching the baby to her chest. Someone or something had cleaned the newborn thoroughly. "Guðrún! And Krakatoa!" she said. "We've made it! I feel like a million Clwyds!"
She looked it, too. The Fire must have taken at least a decade off her. Guðrún felt a strong urge to stand naked in front of a mirror.

"Who's the young lady?" asked Ragna. "And why are you fading?"


... there is usually confusion. The URL of this comic is http://www.rocr.net/?p=20020227



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