Kansas City Emojis & Text

KC🅺©️🚩

KC🚩

ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧

ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᔆᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ ᴵⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶠʳᵉᑫᵘᵉⁿᶜʸ ᴿᵃⁿᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴬʳᵉᵃ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ³⁵⁵ ¹⠘⁷⁶⸴⁰⁴⁴ ⁸⸴⁸⁹¹ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ ⁴ ¹⠘¹³⸴⁹²⁹⸴⁵¹⁵ ²⁹⁰⸴⁷¹⁸ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ² ¹⠘¹⁸¹⸴²²⁹⸴⁴⁶⁶ ¹⸴⁵⁵⁶⸴⁷⁹⁵ ᶜᵃⁿᵃᵈᵃ ¹ ¹⠘³⁶⸴⁸⁴⁵⸴⁵⁹¹ ⁴⁶⁴⸴¹⁰⁸ ᴳᵉʳᵐᵃⁿʸ ¹ ¹⠘⁸⁰⸴⁵⁰⁵⸴⁴⁵⁹ ⁵⁶⁰⸴⁹⁵⁵ ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᴵˢ ᵀʰᵉ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ? ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁷⁸⁰⸴³⁵²ⁿᵈ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʷⁱᵈᵉˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵍˡᵒᵇᵃˡ ˡᵉᵛᵉˡ⸴ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒˣⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ¹ ⁱⁿ ²⁰⸴⁰⁷⁵⸴⁸⁸⁴ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴼᶜᵉᵃⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ; ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡᵃˢⁱᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁹⁸ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴺᵉʷ ᶻᵉᵃˡᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ³⁵⁵ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵒʳ ¹ ⁱⁿ ⁷⁶⸴⁰⁴⁴‧ ᴵⁿ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉⁿᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ⠘ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁷⁴ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ᑫᵘᵉᵉⁿˢˡᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹² ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ⁴ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ¹ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᴾᵒᵖᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵀʳᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶠˡᵘᶜᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᑫᵘᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵒᶠ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ʰᵃˢ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵀʰᵉ ᵁⁿⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵍʳᵉʷ ²⁰⁰ ᵖᵉʳᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ¹⁸⁸⁰ ᵃⁿᵈ ²⁰¹⁴‧ ᴾʰᵒⁿᵉᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉˢ ᔆᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᔆⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵂᵒʳˡᵈʷⁱᵈᵉ ᴵⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴾʳᵉᵛᵃˡᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵂᵃᵗᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁹⁴ ⁴ / ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈᵗ ⁹⁴ ⁰ / ᴮᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁸ ⁹⁰² / ᵂᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁸ ⁰ / ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸² ¹ / ᴮᵃᵗˢʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸² ⁰ / ᵂᵃᶜᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁸⁰ ¹ / ᴮᵒᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷⁵ ²⸴⁴¹⁸ / ᴮᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷⁵ ⁰ / ᵂᵒᵒᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ⁶¹² / ᴮᵃᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ²³² / ᴮᵒᵗᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁷¹ ³¹ / ᵂᵃᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ⁷¹ ¹ / ᴮᵒᵈˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ¹⁸¹ / ᵂᵒʰᶻᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ¹ / ᴮᵃᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁶³ ⁰ / ᴮᵒᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵗ ⁶³ ⁰ / ᴮᵒᵗᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁹ ¹⁷ / ᴮᵉᵃᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁹ ² / ᴮᵒᶜʰᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁵⁰ ⁰ /

WATSFORD name has been spelt Wadford, Watford, Wottsford, Whatford Уодфорд, Уотфорд, Уоттсфорд, Уотфорд Waterford, Walford, Wafford, Watsord, Whatford, Warford, Wattford, Watfor, Wadford, Watfordjr, Waford, O'watford Уотерфорд, Уолфорд, Ваффорд, Уотсорд, Уотфорд, Уорфорд, Уотфорд, Уотфор, Уодфорд, Уотфорджер, Уофорд, О'уотфорд H2O : Шарлотта Уоттсфорд ( Бриттани Бирнс ) Sárlott Vácfort Шарлотта Вотсфорд Шарлот Вотсфорд Шарлотту Вотсфорд Σαρλότου Βότσφορντ

ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧

ᵂᴬᵀᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ᵂᴬᵀᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ³ ᴺᵒᵛ ¹⁸⁸³ ᴹᵉˡᵇᵒᵘʳⁿᵉ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁷ ᶠᵉᵇ ¹⁹⁷⁴ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵉʳᵇᵘʳʸ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴶᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴬⁿⁿ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴶᵃⁿᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁸⁴⁸ ⱽⁱˡᵃ⸴ ᶠⁱʲⁱ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ²⁸ ᴹᵃʸ ¹⁹³⁰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʳⁱⁿᵍʰᵃᵐ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴱˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ ᴶᵒⁿᵉˢ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱᵐⁱˡʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ≤ ² ᔆᵉᵖ ¹⁸⁵⁷ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ³ ᴺᵒᵛ ¹⁸⁷⁸ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴴᵉⁿʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᴴᵃʳᵖᵉʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶠˡᵒʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁸⁷⁵ ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁰ ᔆᵉᵖᵗᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁹⁷² ᔆᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᴸᵉᵒⁿᵃʳᵈˢ⸴ ᵂⁱˡˡᵒᵘᵍʰᵇʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴴᵉⁿʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴸᵒᵘⁱˢᵃ ᔆᵒᵖʰⁱᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴹʸʳᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴹᵃʳʸ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹¹³ ᴾᵃʳʳᵃᵐᵃᵗᵗᵃ ᴺᔆᵂ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹⁸⁴ ᵂᵃʰʳᵒᵒⁿᵍᵃ ᴺᔆᵂ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᴸᵃⁿᶜᵉˡᵒᵗ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴼˡⁱᵛᵉ ᴵ ᴹ ᴰᵒᵘᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ <¹⁸⁸³ ᴺᔆᵂ⸴ ᴬᵁᔆ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ¹⁹⁰⁷ ᴺᔆᵂ⸴ ᴬᵁᔆ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴶᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴹᵃʳʸ ᴹᵒˡᵒⁿᵉʸ ᴺᵃᵐᵉ⠘ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ⠘ ¹³ ᴶᵘⁿ ¹⁹³¹ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ²⁹ ᴶᵘⁿ ¹⁹⁴³ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᔆᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵂᵃˡᵉˢ⸴ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴳᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜⁱˢ ᴺᵒᵉ̈ˡ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⠘ ᴰᵒʳᵒᵗʰʸ ᴹᵉˡᵛⁱˡˡᵉ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᴰᵒᵘᵍˡᵃˢ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽²⁷ ᶠᵉᵇʳᵘᵃʳʸ ¹⁸⁷⁶ – ⁴ ᴰᵉᶜᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁹¹⁵⁾ ᴬᵘˢᵗʳᵃˡⁱᵃⁿ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ᶠᵒᵒᵗᵇᵃˡˡᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃⁿ ᶠᵒᵒᵗᵇᵃˡˡ ᴸᵉᵃᵍᵘᵉ ⁽ⱽᶠᴸ⁾‧

https://tengamehay.com/deaths-in-childbirth

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚

Шарлот Уатсфорд (Британи Бърънс) Шарлотты Уотсфорд Шарлотту Уотсфорд Цхарлотте Ватсфорд Шарлотта Ватсфорд Шарлотта Уосфорд Шарлотта Уотфорд

ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᴳᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ ᵂⁱⁿⁱᶠʳᵉᵈ ᴱᵈⁱᵗʰ ᴱᵐᵐᵃ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁸¹ ⁻ ¹⁹⁵⁴ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ ᴴᵒˡˡᵒʷᵃʸ ⁽ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⁾ ᴾʰⁱˡˡⁱᵖˢ ᶜ‧ ¹⁸⁸³ ᴶᵃⁿᵉ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁴⁸ ⁻ ¹⁹³⁰ ᴱᵐᵐᵃ ᴱˡⁱᶻᵃᵇᵉᵗʰ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ¹⁸⁵⁰ ⁻ ¹⁹³³ ᶜʰᵃʳˡᵒᵗᵗᵉ ᴱ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ᶜ‧ ¹⁸⁵⁷ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵘʳⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⠘ ᵂᴬᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽⁴⁹⁰⁾ ᵂᴴᴬᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽⁵⁰⁾ ᵂᴼᴼᴰᔆᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽²⁴⁾ ᵂᴬᔆᴴᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽¹⁷⁾ ᵂᴬᵀᵀᶠᴼᴿᴰ ⁽¹⁾‧

▪Уотсфорд❑

░▀▄░░▄▀ ▄▄▄██▄▄▄▄▄░▀█▀▐░▌ █▒░▒░▒░█▀█░░█░▐░▌ █░▒░▒░▒█▀█░░█░░█ █▄▄▄▄▄▄███══════

Cᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴᴇ ᴏғ Pᴏᴅᴇ̌ʙʀᴀᴅʏ (11 Nᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 1449 – 8 Mᴀʀᴄʜ 1464) ᴡᴀs Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏғ Hᴜɴɢᴀʀʏ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴡɪғᴇ ᴏғ Kɪɴɢ Mᴀᴛᴛʜɪᴀs Cᴏʀᴠɪɴᴜs. Cᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴡɪɴ sɪsᴛᴇʀ Sɪᴅᴏɴɪᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀᴛ Pᴏᴅᴇ̌ʙʀᴀᴅʏ, ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ Bᴏʜᴇᴍɪᴀɴ ᴋɪɴɢ Gᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴏғ Pᴏᴅᴇ̌ʙʀᴀᴅʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ғɪʀsᴛ ᴡɪғᴇ, Kᴜɴɪɢᴜɴᴅᴇ ᴏғ Šᴛᴇʀɴʙᴇʀᴋ. Kᴜɴɪɢᴜɴᴅᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜ. Gᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴏғ Pᴏᴅᴇ̌ʙʀᴀᴅʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ; ʜɪs sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴡɪғᴇ, Jᴏᴀɴɴᴀ ᴏғ Rᴏᴢ̌ᴍɪᴛᴀ́ʟ, ʙᴏʀᴇ Gᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ Lᴜᴅᴍɪʟᴀ ᴏғ Pᴏᴅᴇ̌ʙʀᴀᴅʏ. Mᴀᴛᴛʜɪᴀs ᴡᴀs ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ, ʜɪs ʙʀɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ. Tʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ ɴᴇɢᴏᴛɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇɢᴜɴ ɪɴ 1458 ᴡʜᴇɴ Cᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴɪɴᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴏʟᴅ. Sᴏᴏɴ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, Cᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ Hᴜɴɢᴀʀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ɴᴇᴡ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ. Jᴀɴᴜs Pᴀɴɴᴏɴɪᴜs ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜ Cᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴᴇ Lᴀᴛɪɴ. Tʜᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ 14. Tʜᴇ ᴏғғsᴘʀɪɴɢ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ. Tʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ Mᴀᴛᴛʜɪᴀs ᴛᴏ ʟᴏsᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴏғ sɪʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟᴇɢɪᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴇɪʀ.

..ღ❤❤•❤ღDAUGHTERღ❤•❤❤ღ..

ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵒᵈᵉ̌ᵇʳᵃᵈʸ ⁽¹¹ ᴺᵒᵛᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ¹⁴⁴⁹ – ⁸ ᴹᵃʳᶜʰ ¹⁴⁶⁴⁾ ʷᵃˢ ᑫᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᶠ ᴴᵘⁿᵍᵃʳʸ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴷⁱⁿᵍ ᴹᵃᵗᵗʰⁱᵃˢ ᶜᵒʳᵛⁱⁿᵘˢ‧ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʷⁱⁿ ˢⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ᔆⁱᵈᵒⁿⁱᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵒᵈᵉ̌ᵇʳᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴮᵒʰᵉᵐⁱᵃⁿ ᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴳᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵒᵈᵉ̌ᵇʳᵃᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵘⁿⁱᵍᵘⁿᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᔆ̌ᵗᵉʳⁿᵇᵉʳᵏ‧ ᴷᵘⁿⁱᵍᵘⁿᵈᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ‧ ᴳᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵒᵈᵉ̌ᵇʳᵃᵈʸ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴶᵒᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵒᶠ ᴿᵒᶻ̌ᵐⁱᵗᵃ́ˡ ᵇᵒʳᵉ ᴳᵉᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᴸᵘᵈᵐⁱˡᵃ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵒᵈᵉ̌ᵇʳᵃᵈʸ‧ ᴹᵃᵗᵗʰⁱᵃˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵉⁱᵍʰᵗᵉᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰⁱʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉᵍᵒᵗⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ⁱⁿ ¹⁴⁵⁸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ʷᵃˢ ⁿⁱⁿᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ᴴᵘⁿᵍᵃʳʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵉʷ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴶᵃⁿᵘˢ ᴾᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿⁱᵘˢ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵉ ᴸᵃᵗⁱⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᑫᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈᵇⁱʳᵗʰ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ¹⁴‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠˢᵖʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᴹᵃᵗᵗʰⁱᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒˢᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵉᵍⁱᵗⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉⁱʳ‧

ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧

ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧

ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧

"Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream." — Euripides ❤ ♥ ꧁꧂

♥𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 ℒ𝓸𝓿𝓮 ♥•*¨*•.¸¸.•*¨*•♥ ❤ 𝓐𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 ❤ 𝐼𝓃 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑀𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎❤ 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊

ᴱᵘˢᵗᵃᶜᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵘᵉˡ ᴬˢᑫᵘⁱᵗʰ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ¹⁸⁸⁷ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ⁴ ᴬᵖʳ ¹⁸⁸⁹ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ¹–²⁾ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ ᴳᵉⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵃⁿ ᴮᵒʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ ᴸᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᵂᵉˢᵗ ʸᵒʳᵏˢʰⁱʳᵉ⸴ ᴱⁿᵍˡᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᴸᴼᵀ ²⁰³⁶ ᴳʳᵃᵛᵉˢⁱᵗᵉ ᴰᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ᴬᵍᵉ⠘ ² ʸᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ⠘ ᴿⁱᶜᶜᵃˡˡ⸴ ᴬᵇᵒᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶜᵉ⠘ ⁴ ᴼᵃᵗᵉˢ ᔆᑫᵘᵃʳᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴼᶠ ᴰᵉᵃᵗʰ⠘ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵘˡˢⁱᵒⁿˢ⸴ ᵀʳᵃᵈᵉ⠘ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ⸴ ᴳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ⠘ ᴹ⸴ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⠘ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᴴᵉʳᵇᵉʳᵗ ᴬᔆᑫᵁᴵᵀᴴ & ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᴬᔆᑫᵁᴵᵀᴴ⸴ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ¹ ᵀʳᵃᵈᵉ⠘ ᴮᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳ⸴ ⁸ ᴬᵖʳ ¹⁸⁸⁹ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ

☆¸.✿¸´´¯`•.¸¸.ღ¸ ♥ʚįɞ♥´´¯`•.¸¸.♥. (¯`v´¯) ....♥ Close to my Heart `*.¸.*.♥.✿´´¯`•.¸⁀°♡

ᴹⁱˢˢ ᔆʰᵃⁿᵉ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ¹⁸⁷⁸ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ᴹᵃʸ ¹⁸⁹⁶ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ¹⁷–¹⁸⁾ ᴴᵉᵃʳᵗ ᴰⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴱᵃˢᵗᵉʳⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴶᵉᶠᶠᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵛⁱˡˡᵉ⸴ ᶜˡᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴵⁿᵈⁱᵃⁿᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ

✎🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️✐

ᴬˡᵃⁿ ᴿᵃʸ ᴼʳᵗᵉᵍᵃ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ²⁶ ᴶᵃⁿ ¹⁹⁵³ ᵀᵒᵒᵉˡᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᵁᵗᵃʰ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ²⁶ ᴶᵃⁿ ¹⁹⁵³ ᵀᵒᵒᵉˡᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᵁᵗᵃʰ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᵀᵒᵒᵉˡᵉ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴬˡᵃⁿ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉˡⁱᵛᵉʳʸ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᶜᵗᵒʳ

𝐹𝑎𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 ᥫ᭡.

~ ★.　　 ° 　¸. * ● ¸ .　　　　° ☾ ° 　¸. ● ¸ .　　★　° :.　 . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　.　¸ . ● ¸ 　　　★　　★☾ °★ . 　　　　.　 °☆ 　. ● ¸ .　　　★　° .　 • ○ ° ★　 .　 　　　　　　*　.　 ☾ ° 　¸. * ● ¸ 　　　　° ☾ °☆ 　. * ¸.　　　★

Never Forgotten ❤ ♥ ꧁꧂

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. 𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ𝒹 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

⛰️🥾🌿🎒🌳

ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧

http://www.bowerman.ca/albury/bdata.htm

⣿⣟⡿⣻⢟⡿⣛⡿⣛⣟⡻⣟⡻⣟⢿⡻⣟⢿⣻⢟⣿⣻⢿⣟⡿⣿⠿⣿⢿⡿⣿⢿⣿⡿⢿⣻⣏⣯⣽⣬⣃⣬⣐⣢⣬⣻⣦⣌⡩⠥⠞⢪⣩⡛⢿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣟⡾⣝⣯⢟⡽⣯⢽⡻⣜⢿⣱⢟⡽⣺⠵⣏⠿⣼⢻⡼⣭⣳⢏⡾⣝⡿⣭⢿⣹⢟⣯⢷⣻⠿⣝⣧⣟⣛⡭⣁⣀⡈⠉⠩⠙⣯⡝⢻⠿⠓⣤⢷⣻⣦⡙⡺⠿⣷⡿⣯⣟⣯⣿⣟⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣯⡽⣞⢧⡿⣹⢮⡗⣯⢽⡺⣵⢫⣞⡳⢯⡝⣯⢳⣏⢾⣱⢏⡾⣝⡾⣵⣛⢞⣵⣻⠮⢯⣳⣯⣿⣵⣶⣶⢶⡿⠿⢿⡿⣷⣦⣶⡄⡭⢅⣀⣀⢈⡹⣿⣵⡕⣍⢻⢿⣽⣯⢿⣾⣻⣽⡿⣟⣿⣾⡿⣿⣾⢿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⡿⣿ ⣷⡹⣞⢧⡻⣵⢫⢾⡹⣎⠷⣭⢳⢮⡝⣧⢻⣜⡳⣎⠿⣜⢯⡞⣵⣛⢶⣽⣿⣻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣟⡯⠴⣒⠈⠭⣙⢒⣌⣥⡶⠦⣿⣗⣂⢼⣿⣶⣦⠽⣿⣆⢫⢾⣳⣿⢯⣷⣟⣿⣽⣿⣻⣾⢿⣿⣽⡿⣿⣻⣷⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿ ⣾⡱⢯⣞⡳⣭⣛⢮⡳⣭⢻⡜⡯⣞⢼⣣⢟⡲⣝⢮⡻⣜⢧⣛⢶⣽⣿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡓⣎⣵⢶⡚⡯⠿⢟⣫⣭⡶⠏⡹⣿⣯⣍⡘⢮⡹⢿⣾⣻⣞⠹⣷⢯⣿⣻⢾⣯⣟⣾⡿⣽⣿⢾⡿⣽⣿⢿⣽⣯⣿⡿⣟⣿ ⣶⢻⡝⣮⡝⣧⣛⢮⡳⣭⢳⡽⣱⢎⡷⢎⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢮⠳⣜⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣏⣷⣿⡿⣛⣳⠴⢮⣽⡿⠻⢏⠵⡛⢀⠍⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣻⣧⢳⡙⢼⣻⢾⣽⣻⣷⣻⣽⣟⣿⡾⣿⣟⣿⣽⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿ ⣳⢏⡾⣱⣛⢶⡹⣎⡗⣧⡛⣶⡹⣎⠷⣋⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣟⣽⣾⣿⣾⢫⠎⠲⢜⣓⣏⠿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣧⢳⡌⣳⣻⣞⣷⢯⣟⣷⣿⣳⣿⣻⣽⣯⣿⡾⣟⣷⡿⣷⣿⣻ ⢯⡞⣵⢣⡟⣎⠷⣭⠞⣶⡹⢖⡳⡭⢯⡝⣮⢳⡝⡮⠵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⢻⡜⡵⠃⠀⠀⠐⠓⠜⣯⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢷⡘⣧⣟⡾⣿⣽⣳⣯⢿⣞⣿⣽⣾⢷⣿⢿⣻⣿⢿⣽⣿ ⡻⣜⢧⡻⡼⢭⣛⣖⢻⡲⣝⣫⢵⢫⡳⡝⡶⢫⡼⣹⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⢳⣾⡽⣵⣿⠏⣰⢏⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⣗⢻⡾⣽⢷⣯⢿⣽⣻⣯⢿⣞⣯⣿⢯⣿⡿⣽⣿⣻⣾ ⣝⢮⡳⡽⣙⢧⡳⣎⢷⡹⢆⠧⣫⢗⡭⣝⡞⢧⢻⠴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢾⣿⣿⣿⡟⣡⣺⡫⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣜⣳⣟⡿⣞⣿⣳⣯⢿⣯⡿⣽⣾⣟⣯⣿⡿⣽⣿⣻ ⢮⡳⡽⣱⢏⡾⣱⡝⣦⠓⡈⠀⢑⠪⡵⢫⡜⣏⢮⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡯⣜⡵⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⢚⡾⣽⢯⡷⣿⡽⣯⣷⢿⣯⡷⣟⣿⣞⣿⢿⣽⣿ ⡳⡽⣱⢏⡾⣱⢧⣛⡼⡡⢄⠢⡜⣳⡝⢧⣛⡬⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠚⠉⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⡶⠛⠉⠀⠉⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⡜⣽⢯⡿⣽⢷⣟⡿⣞⣯⣷⢿⣻⣷⣻⣽⣿⣻⣾ ⣝⡳⣭⢞⡵⣯⡞⣼⠒⠀⠀⠈⣷⡓⡞⢧⣛⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⡿⡿⢟⡛⠛⠉⠛⡍⠁⠀⠀⠀⠸⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣇⠾⣭⢿⣽⣻⢾⣽⣻⣽⢾⣻⣟⣾⢯⣷⣟⣷⢿ ⣧⢛⡖⢯⣻⢷⣫⠗⡏⠒⠀⠐⢳⡽⣙⡾⡵⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣲⣌⠼⣡⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣯⣭⣕⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⢸⡝⣯⢾⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣿⣻⢾⣯⢿⣳⣿⢾⣿ ⣗⣫⡜⢧⣛⣿⡐⠈⢓⡤⣤⠴⡾⣱⢻⣱⢣⡓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡴⢛⣩⠛⠿⠛⠃⠴⠛⣿⢣⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠷⠿⠿⠮⠒⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡌⢿⣹⣟⣾⣳⢯⣟⡷⣯⣟⡿⣾⣻⣟⣾⢿⣾ ⣯⠶⣩⠗⣮⢟⣷⣂⢯⡜⣖⢫⡕⢧⣋⢖⣳⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡱⠠⠀⠈⠉⠓⠒⠂⢀⡼⡱⢊⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢽⡇⢧⠳⣏⡾⣽⣻⢾⣽⣳⢯⣟⡷⣟⣾⢯⣿⢾ ⢧⡛⣬⢛⡴⣻⠿⡜⢳⠼⣌⡳⢎⠷⣘⢺⣣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⠁⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠜⣁⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣧⠊⡽⡸⣝⣳⢯⣟⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⣞⢯ ⠣⠜⡠⢋⠼⡱⢃⠐⠂⡈⢀⠻⡼⣙⢦⠏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢂⠍⡐⠀⢀⠀⠀⢄⣪⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣣⠝⣎⢷⣛⡾⣽⢯⡿⣽⣳⣟⣾⣳⢯⡿ ⠀⠐⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠐⠠⢁⠚⡰⡉⢤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢎⡰⠠⡁⠠⠈⣐⢆⠹⢤⣦⣴⡀⠀⠠⠤⠄⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠡⡛⢬⡳⣏⡾⣝⣻⣞⢷⣻⣞⡷⣯⢿⣽ ⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⣅⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⡶⡑⠤⠁⢈⡡⢎⡘⠀⠈⠒⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⢻⠢⣙⠮⣗⢯⠷⣞⣯⢷⣛⡾⣽⣻⣞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢷⠡⠀⢰⡟⣴⣧⣵⣶⡴⣦⣤⣠⣐⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⡀⠹⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⡀⠂⠩⠪⣿⢎⡿⣱⢯⣞⣭⢟⡷⣏⠞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣼⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠀⠀⢳⠘⡿⣿⣧⢇⣅⣀⣁⣀⣁⣠⣰⣼⠟⠁⠸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⢋⢄⠀⠐⡈⢯⢞⡽⣺⡜⣮⣻⡝⡎⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢆⠀⠘⣦⡙⠾⣭⣛⢒⠂⢆⠂⠶⣖⡋⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⢂⠑⢄⠈⡜⡎⢷⡡⢟⡴⣏⢾⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣣⢿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⣌⠘⡌⠥⠀⠉⠉⠉⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠧⣀⠀⠸⣙⠦⣙⢎⠶⣹⢎⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢎⣾⠃⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⢦⡀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⣷⣥⡈⠂⢹⡰⢡⢎⠳⣱⢺⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⣏⢜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡹⢞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢻⢿⣿⣦⠘⠠⢃⠎⣡⢣⠳⣎⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠸⡄⢻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣲⠤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢌⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣽⠸⢪⢻⣿⡇⢈⢣⠒⡁⢆⠻⡔⣃ ⣀⠀⠀⠒⠠⠤⠤⠄⠀⠹⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢢⠘⠫⠿⠗⠘⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⢬⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢆⡙⣼⣯⡇⢀⠲⡁⠖⡈⢆⠹⡔ ⡹⢮⡔⡠⢄⡠⣄⢄⡀⣠⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢌⠶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠠⢡⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⡌ ⡑⢢⠘⡡⢋⠷⣯⣾⠟⢻⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⢣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⢊⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢸⣿⣷⢹⣆⠂⠡⢌⠱⣈⠒⡌ ⠈⡀⢣⠰⡁⠚⠋⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠰⠑⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢂⡜⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣹⣼⣆⣿⣣⢿⣿⣀⠁⠌⡒⢄⠣⡐ ⡺⡅⠃⢆⣁⠠⠀⣀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠐⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢂⠜⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢄⢸⣿⣧⣯⣿⣟⣾⣿⠟⠹⠚⠭⣓⠦⡑⠠ ⣿⡽⠓⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡦⣿⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢉⠂⡎⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣷⡌⢿⣿⣷⣟⣻⠟⠁⡠⠂⠀⠀⠀⠑⢌⡡ ⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠐⠀⠠⠃⡜⡰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠀⠡⡘⢄⡳⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣋⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠐⡈⠆⡱⢌⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠘⡀⢎⢎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣹⣁⡴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠀⡈⡶⠀⣴⠟⠃⣠⠿⠩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡌⣚⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠔⠁⠀⣿⡄⣏⠀⠢⣄⣀⣺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣐⠯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣅⠈⣻⣿⣿⡿⡯⡓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢄⠊⢀⡀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣭⣛⢚⡿⣟⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢨⠓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣋⢻⣿⡟⣿⠻⣷⡜⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠚⡄⠀⣀⣀⢉⡿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣎⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⠟⡱⢠⣿⣿⡿⠇⠀⢹⡇⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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Sharlota Watsford شارلوت واتسفورد Շարլոտա Ուոթսֆորդ Шарлотта Уотсфорд Шарлот Уотсфорд Carlota Watsford שארלוט ווטספורד چارلۆت واتسفۆرد Šarlote Vatsforda Charlotte Watsfordas Шарлот Вотсфорд Шарлотт Ватсфорд शार्लोट वाट्सफोर्ड Шарлотка Уотсфорд Salote Watsford Љарлот Wатсфорд Шарлотта Ватсфорд ሻርሎት ዋትስፎርድ Sālote Watsford

❤ ❤ 🅴🆃🅴🆁🅽🅰🅻 🅻🅾🆅🅸🅽🅶 🅼🅴🅼🅾🆁🆈 ❤ ♥ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ α♡ѕнαρє∂♡нσℓє♡ιη♡му♡нєαят ﮩﮩـ٨ﮩﮩـ٨ﮩ♥ (✿◠‿◠)

⣿⣻⠿⣽⢯⠿⣽⣫⣟⡽⣫⢿⣹⢏⣿⡹⣏⢿⡹⣏⡿⣝⣯⢻⡽⣫⠿⣝⣯⢟⣯⣟⢯⣟⢿⣻⢟⣿⢻⣟⢯⣟⣾⣯⣿⣽⣟⣭⣯⣷⣼⡶⢏⡒⣡⣒⣬⡭⠿⡷⠾⢶⡷⣿⣶⣫⢿⣶⣥⣁⠂⠂⢀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠄⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡷⣯⢿⡽⣞⡿⢧⡷⢾⡽⣽⡳⢯⣟⡶⣻⣭⢷⡻⣵⡻⣞⠾⣯⠷⣯⠿⡽⣞⠿⣞⣾⢻⣞⣯⣽⣛⢮⣿⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⣻⢭⠭⣆⠄⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠠⢀⡠⠽⣻⡮⢷⡛⠳⢶⣢⣝⡢⣑⠢⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡝⣯⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⣼⣳⢻⡼⣝⡯⣽⣫⠾⣵⣛⢯⡞⣽⢳⢮⡳⣏⢷⣹⡭⣟⢾⡹⣧⢿⣹⢞⣻⣝⡮⣟⡼⣾⠱⣯⣿⣿⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣛⣯⣿⣷⡯⠷⠖⣒⣒⣚⣛⣭⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣦⣟⠛⢷⣌⠉⠓⠚⠛⡲⣆⡁⢆⡐⢢⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢫⣿⣽⡿⣷⣿⡿⣿ ⣟⠶⣽⢳⣛⣮⡽⢶⣫⢟⡵⣫⢷⡹⣎⡟⣮⢳⣭⣛⢶⡹⣎⢷⡻⣼⢳⣏⡾⣳⢮⡽⣞⣽⢯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣽⣞⣫⣭⣴⣗⣾⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡿⢿⣭⣛⣏⢻⠡⣿⡠⠦⠤⠤⢭⢿⣷⡀⠈⠄⠁⠀⢀⠈⠀⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⢻⣯⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿ ⣯⣛⡾⣭⠷⣮⢽⣣⢟⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣾⡱⣏⢶⡹⣎⢷⣹⢎⡷⣭⢳⣎⢷⡹⣎⠷⣽⣽⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠻⠟⣛⣋⣉⣵⣮⡷⠾⡟⣉⣡⣬⠴⠲⠜⢿⣦⡉⠉⠙⠽⣶⢽⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⣟⣷⣿⡿⣟⣿ ⡷⣹⢞⡵⣻⡜⣧⣛⠾⣜⢧⡻⣜⢧⣛⢶⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⣭⢳⢮⣏⠷⣭⢻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡶⠷⠛⣛⣋⣩⠡⠄⠭⢖⡫⢝⣤⣶⣾⡷⣾⠟⠛⠿⣧⡽⢭⣌⡻⣾⣥⠀⡐⠀⠁⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣷⢿⣿⢿ ⣽⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⡶⣭⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⣛⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⠾⣜⢯⡞⣼⠻⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⣭⢷⣾⢷⡻⣽⠞⠋⣑⣬⠾⣯⠾⣻⣿⣿⠿⣝⣫⣴⣾⣏⣟⡻⣤⣘⣫⠝⠻⠧⠀⢀⠈⠀⠄⠠⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠊⢛ ⢷⣫⢞⣧⢻⣜⡳⣭⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⢶⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣎⠷⣭⢻⡜⣧⢻⣜⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣽⣻⣿⠿⣭⣟⣿⡕⣯⣾⣿⣿⣻⡷⠿⣩⣷⡾⣟⣿⣿⡿⢹⠏⣸⡌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠈⡐⠈⠄⠂⢁⠠⠁⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⢃ ⡷⣹⢞⡼⣳⢎⡷⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣣⢟⡼⣻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣡⣶⠿⣛⣭⣿⣽⣿⠞⣱⡟⣰⠏⡼⣿⣿⣯⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⡡⢈⡐⠄⠠⠀⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢤⣒⠣⠜⢂ ⣽⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⡟⣼⢣⣟⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣽⣶⣿⣿⢟⢫⣱⣾⣿⡟⣩⢞⣡⢺⣽⣿⣿⣷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣧⠐⠤⠐⡈⠄⠈⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣠⣔⡲⣛⠜⡢⢌⠡⣉⠀ ⡞⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⣣⢝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣎⣷⡟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠿⣟⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡱⠁⠈⠙⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡎⢤⡁⠰⣀⠡⢀⢂⡰⣰⣌⡷⣳⢏⡶⣑⢣⡙⢤⡃⢇⠦⣉ ⡽⣎⢷⡹⣎⢷⡹⣌⠓⡌⠐⠊⡖⢫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣫⢞⡵⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢟⠾⣹⣿⢯⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⢏⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣣⢯⣷⡼⣽⣞⣾⢷⣻⢾⡹⢇⠯⣰⢡⡖⣹⢦⡙⢎⡒⠤ ⣳⡝⣮⢳⡝⣮⢳⣎⠡⠀⠌⡐⢌⡳⣎⢷⣙⢮⡳⣝⢮⡳⣝⡾⣽⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⡾⣱⠫⣼⡿⣵⡻⣷⢿⣿⢟⣏⠜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣽⣿⢿⣽⣯⢿⡱⢣⡝⢎⣳⡱⢧⡛⡴⢃⢮⠱⣌⢣ ⣧⢻⡜⣧⢻⡜⢳⡌⢃⡎⢰⢁⡏⣷⢹⣮⡝⣮⣵⢋⡞⣱⡟⣹⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣷⢁⣿⡟⣸⣿⡟⣷⡟⢁⣯⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢹⡞⣿⢻⣽⡎⣧⠙⣧⠚⣭⣶⢉⣧⠙⡖⣭⢲⡍⡖⢣ ⡽⣞⣳⡽⢮⡝⣏⠑⠂⠀⠁⢯⡜⣮⢳⣎⢷⡹⣜⢮⣽⡳⣽⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣝⢦⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⢟⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣯⡿⣝⠯⢶⡹⣌⠟⡼⣩⠳⣌⠳⣌⢳⡱⢣⢎⡵⡭⣏ ⡿⣽⣳⣟⢯⣞⢦⣁⡀⠀⠀⡸⣝⠶⣋⡞⢮⣵⣻⡛⣶⡹⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠵⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠞⠋⠉⠙⢷⣄⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠉⡷⣙⢞⣣⠳⣌⠻⣔⢣⡛⣬⠳⣜⢣⣝⣣⢻⡴⢻⣜ ⣟⣷⣻⡞⢏⢞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⣯⣝⣣⢟⢧⡳⢦⡟⣶⡹⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢯⢭⣙⠯⣟⡿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⣤⣶⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠱⡸⢌⡞⡴⢫⣜⡳⢎⡧⡝⢦⡛⣬⢳⡺⣜⢧⣛⡷⣯ ⡞⣼⣳⡍⠎⠀⠰⣤⠤⡤⣤⢾⢳⢮⣜⡫⢮⡵⣫⣼⡷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠯⡽⣭⠲⣍⢾⡱⣏⣶⣭⣶⣥⣮⣁⠂⠁⠄⢃⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡡⡝⢮⡜⣵⢫⠶⣙⡏⡶⡹⢦⡝⣎⡳⣝⢮⢯⡽⣞⡷ ⡝⣶⣻⢿⡰⢄⡻⢬⣛⡵⢭⢎⡻⣜⡶⣹⢣⢞⣽⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡯⣝⠳⢭⣻⣜⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠓⠮⣍⡷⡄⠈⢦⡩⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⣠⣶⡿⠿⣿⣯⣿⣳⣦⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠐⡈⢦⡙⢶⣋⢯⡕⣺⢱⡙⢦⣙⠶⡹⣬⢛⡮⢷⣏⣿ ⣝⡲⣯⢿⣷⣫⣝⡣⢽⣘⠧⡞⣵⢫⡼⣱⢋⠾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣈⠃⢏⠽⣉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⠀⠀⠈⡷⣝⡎⢲⢱⢊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡼⣿⣿⣿⡗⡄⠀⠹⡿⢯⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠙⣮⡙⢧⣛⢮⣝⢶⣫⣽⣳⣮⣷⣝⢶⣋⣞⢧⡟⣾ ⢮⡱⣏⠿⣎⠱⢊⡝⠶⣩⢞⡹⢦⡳⣜⢣⡏⢾⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⢤⡉⠢⠱⠌⣎⠙⡛⠻⠿⠖⠒⠒⠉⠉⢁⡞⢡⠚⡄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠻⠿⢿⣋⣀⣀⣼⠷⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠦⡙⢦⡹⣞⢮⢷⣣⡟⣷⣻⢿⣾⡿⣟⣾⣧⣿⣳ ⠲⣙⢎⡓⠌⠤⢁⠈⡑⠤⢋⡼⣣⠷⣌⠯⣜⢣⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡺⡅⢎⡁⠂⡁⠀⠡⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠃⡐⢂⡉⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣌⢳⣽⣳⣽⣻⢾⣿⢿⣿⣟⣿⣿ ⠓⠈⠀⠉⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠣⢅⢫⡑⠻⣌⠳⢬⢳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⡙⢦⠉⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢂⠡⢂⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣖⠿⣼⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠒⢬⠑⡀⠣⣸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢶⡹⢆⡍⢂⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢄⠈⡐⢌⠢⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠤⠒⢌⠫⠖⣭⣛⣧⢷⣯⣟⣷⣻⣷⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⢌⠠⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⣛⠦⡘⢄⠊⠄⡁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡾⠁⠎⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢻⣞⢯⡾⣽⢾⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣜⢣⢍⠢⠌⡐⢀⠂⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢹⡅⠂⣠⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡾⣹⢿⣽⣻⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣮⢓⡎⡔⠡⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠽⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣟⣿⣞⣯⣷⣿⡿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⢬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠷⡸⢄⢃⠂⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣻⡄⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣌⢿⣼⣻⡿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣠⠴⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢯⡱⢊⠄⢂⠀⠄⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⣄⣀⣀⢤⢺⣭⣟⣾⡽⣿⢿⣽⣻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠐⠄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢭⢣⠎⠄⠂⠀⠂⠄⠠⢴⣦⣴⣶⣶⣶⣻⣷⣦⣑⣚⣲⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣼⢫⣟⢯⡾⡷⣯⣟⣿⣿⣻⣾⢷⣻⣞⣿⢿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣓⠮⡐⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠆⡘⢌⡑⠶⣤⣩⣉⣔⡙⣉⣉⡉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⢦⡻⡜⣮⢳⣏⣷⢿⣟⣿⡿⣿⢿⣻⣾⣽⢿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢀⣾⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣖⡡⢂⠀⡐⠀⢉⡐⠈⡀⠒⠀⠀⠉⠉⠑⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡿⣟⡿⣧⡻⢼⡹⣏⠷⣯⣻⣾⣷⡿⣿⢿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣻ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠞⡏⠀⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡳⢆⡒⠄⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⡯⢿⡳⣽⣍⣟⡶⣫⢷⡿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡅⠐⣿⣯⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣜⡣⡔⣀⠂⠌⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣧⡛⣿⣯⣽⣦⣖⢢⣏⠵⢫⡼⣿⣽⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡇⠀⢿⣻⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣱⢳⡔⡢⢌⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡽⣿⣿⣷⡼⣷⡷⣬⣛⢧⡚⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣤⣨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠎⡱⠪⣔⣢⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡠⠤⢶⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣿⣿⣗⣯⣝⢶⢫⣞⣱⡎⠹⣞⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿ ⡔⢦⣣⢖⡥⠂⠀⠀⡠⠶⠿⡾⠿⠿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢛⠟⡩⠉⠁⠄⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣌⡳⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⣾⢫⣞⡷⣣⢿⣡⣿⣽⣻⣯⣿⣿ ⡘⠥⣋⣾⣳⢿⣦⣙⢥⡔⠋⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⣿⢷⡈⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⢦⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢺⣞⣻⢾⣹⢯⣺⡵⣾⣿⣳⣿⣿⣿ ⢈⠆⢥⣻⣿⢿⣿⣻⣯⣼⣆⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢹⣷⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⣘⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣆⢋⡗⠿⣮⣷⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢌⡘⢄⣻⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡘⢬⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⡝⣽⣿⣾⢎⡵⢲⡴⣻⢭⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠢⠜⡰⢸⡿⣟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⡇⣼⣷⡧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡑⣌⢷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣿⣿⡎⣿⣾⣽⣀⠌⠙⠳⣝⢮⡝⠷⡻⣿⠿⠁ ⠤⠦⠤⠾⠿⠿⣛⡇⢼⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣾⣿⡇⠘⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣀⠣⣘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢘⣿⣿⢿⣘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⡜⣇⢣⠛⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⣿⣿⠃⢸⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⡐⢠⠣⣙⣮⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠻⣿⣿⣿⡌⣿⣿⡿⣿⠟⠁⠨⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢾⣿⡧⣿⣿⠏⠀⣾⠏⠀⠀⢀⠠⠀⡈⠐⡈⢄⠣⡱⣞⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣽⢯⡴⠋⠀⢀⡇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠣⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢲⣿⡟⢉⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣷⣿⠃⢀⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠐⠀⡁⠄⡈⢆⡱⢏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⡉⠛⢿⣿⣿⡿⣆⠀⢀⡠⠋⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣟⡹⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣇⣿⣿⡃⣴⠞⠃⠀⢃⠀⠀⠀⠄⠈⡀⠄⢂⠁⠆⢬⡙⣮⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣄⢺⣿⣿⣿⡟⣧⠘⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣴⡖⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣞⣿⣿⣿⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠄⡐⠠⠘⡌⢢⡙⢶⣹⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠠⠀⠌⠠⢀⠡⠡⡘⠤⡙⢬⡓⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠤⠦⠵⠾⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠱⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠠⠁⠔⢂⠑⢢⠱⣹⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡿⣿⣻⡇⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢐⣠⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠠⢈⠂⠥⢣⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠙⣁⣤⠞⠃⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣀⣃⣜⣢⠼⠿⠏⢸⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⣾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠐⠿⠻⣷⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠈⠄⢣⢞⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣷⡿⠞⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡏⠀⠀⠐⠠⠀⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠌⢢⡛⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡷⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⢢⣡⡂⣔⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣼⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢧⠹⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣍⠹⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡙⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠠⣐⠀⣳⢿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⢆⠻⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠾⣡⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢗⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠂⠀⠄⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣦⣜⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⣷⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣬⠓⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠙⢿⣯⣪⠣⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣧⣶⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣷⣶⣾⣷⣘⣃⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡿⠉⠉⠉⣁⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠈⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣶⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣴⡶⢿⣛⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡛⠛⠛⠿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣛⣛⣋⠉⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣛⣫⣽⣿⡶⠿⢿⣛⣩⣽⣷⣶⠿⣿⣿⣟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡶⢿⣿⣿⣻⡉⠁⢠⡶⠿⣫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⡿⢟⣃⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠎⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣛⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⢠⣤⣄⣠⣤⣶⡶⠶⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠟⢛⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡉⢻⣿⡿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠛⠁⢙⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢁⣀⣠⣴⣾⡿⠛⠉⠛⢿⣷⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢈⡅⠀⠀⢠⡟⠋⠀⠀⠈⣹⡇⠀⠀⠰⠞⡋⠀⢴⣆⣉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⠀⠉⠉⠛⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⠷⠶⡶⠾⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣬⣵⣶⣶⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠋⠉⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣆⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣻⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⢀⣄⡀⠀⠀⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠉⣽⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣤⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⣿⡅⢸⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⢶⣮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠙⠃⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣽⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡇⠀⠀⠘⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢷⣿⡟⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⣉⣀⣞⡉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⡇⢺⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡍⠉⠉⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠘⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⣿⣿⣿⡽⣷⣶⠀⠀⠀⣀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⡾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡧⣿⣟⡇⠀⠀⢿⡀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠿⠟⠛⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡁⢐⡷⠶⢿⡄⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣷⣿⣣⣾⠟⠋⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢽⣿⣷⣾⡿⢟⣳⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠙⠿⣿⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣀⢀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⠟⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⠿⣿⣤⡉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏ ⠶⠶⠶⠾⠿⢿⣿⣏⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠛⠙⠃⠀ ⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⡀⠀⠀ ⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡟⢰⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⣰⡟⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣻⣿⣟⠋⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⡏⣰⣿⠟⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⢠⣾⠟⠁⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣴⡿⠋⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠁⠀⠀⣿⠀⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣷⣤⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠁⠀⠸⠏⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⢠⣠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⣠⡄⠀⠀⠀⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠉⠀⠀⠀⠶⣦⡶⠶⠾⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⢻⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⣀⣤⠀⠀⠉⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡿⠛⠀⢠⣤⠀⠙⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢦⣄⣀⣀⣤⣾⣿⠟⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠈⠉⠻⣿⢿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣽⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠸⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⣿⣤⣄⢘⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣥⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⣿⣧⢶⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

✻ღϠ₡ღ✻(¯`✻´¯)Every life has a story *`*.¸.*✻ღϠ₡ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸

🚼 https://www.sci.news/medicine/sesquizygotic-twins-06956.html 🚼

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 ♡❁♡

🦠

ꕤ*.ﾟ♡┊𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪, 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪. 𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪┊ ꕤ*.ﾟ♡

* Aug 17 1879 Margaret Evans May 9 1847 Aug 15 1879 Wales 32 yrs, 3 mos. Premature childbirth *

๑❤๑♥๑ "In all things of nature, there is something of the marvelous." — Aristotle ๑❤๑♥๑ ꧁꧂

https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/102416085/doreen-watsford https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/206856573 https://newspaperarchive.com/broken-hill-barrier-miner-jun-30-1943-p-1/ Doreen June Watsford Doreen's barely a tweenager when she slipped near a rocky grotto by her cousins home. Doreen lost her footing balance on some unstable terrain crumbling down below with her. Doreen's lifetime was c. 193X-194X BURIAL Rookwood General Cemetery Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia PLOT Anglican Sect 15 grave 2539 MEMORIAL ID 102416085 ·

nickgram.com/sharlotta-uotsford/

https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/anti-villain https://villains.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Anti-Villain

¹⁸⁶¹ ¹⁸⁶² ¹⁸⁶³ ¹⁸⁶⁴ ¹⁸⁶⁵ ¹⁸⁶⁶ ¹⁸⁶⁷ ¹⁸⁶⁸ ¹⁸⁶⁹ ¹⁸⁷⁰ ¹⁸⁷¹ ¹⁸⁷² ¹⁸⁷³ ¹⁸⁷⁴ ¹⁸⁷⁵ ¹⁸⁷⁶ ¹⁸⁷⁷ ¹⁸⁷⁸ ¹⁸⁷⁹ ¹⁸⁸⁰ ¹⁸⁸¹ ¹⁸⁸² ¹⁸⁸³ ¹⁸⁸⁴ ¹⁸⁸⁵ ¹⁸⁸⁶ ¹⁸⁸⁷ ¹⁸⁸⁸ ¹⁸⁸⁹ ¹⁸⁹⁰ 

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* Jan 16 1917 UC of Henry Roth Jan 16 1917 Jan 16 1917 0 Injury at birth *

* Dec 14 1905 UC of Mrs. M Compton Dec 14 1905 2 wks. Eclampsia Unnamed child of Mrs. M. Compton *

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ᴳᴵᴿᴸ'ᔆ ᶠᴬᵀᴬᴸ ᶠᴬᴸᴸ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ ᴾᴼᴼᴸ ᔆʸᴰᴺᴱʸ⸴ ‧ ᵀᵘᵉˢᵈᵃʸ‧ — ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ⸴ ¹²⸴ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜ ᴴⁱᵍʰʷᵃʸ⸴ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ⸴ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵉʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡⁱᵐᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒˢˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵂᵃᵗᵉʳᶠᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ³⁰ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᶠᵒˡⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᵍʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᶜʰⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵖⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ᴳᵒʳᵍᵉ — — — ^ — — — ᔆʸᵈⁿᵉʸ⸴ ᴶᵘⁿᵉ ²⁹‧— ᶠᵃᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴰᵒʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵂᵃᵗˢᶠᵒʳᵈ ⁽¹²⁾ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ³⁵ ᶠᵗ‧ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮᵒʳᵒʷʳᵃ ᵗᵒ⁻ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘˢⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒʳᵍᵉ‧ ᴬ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵖᵉⁿᵉᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʲᵃʷ ʷᵃˢ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˡʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵇᵘˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴴᵒʳⁿˢᵇʸ ᴴᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ

https://archiveofourown.org/works/search?work_search%5Bquery%5D=Watsford

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╔╗╔╗╔╗╔═╦ ♥. .☆.......•*¨`*• ╠╣║║║╦╠═║✫ (¯`'•.¸ //(*_*) ¸.•'´¯) ╝╚╩║╚╝╚═╚═╝❤✫ƸӜƷ *`• .…* * *.•

║║╔═╦╦╦═╗ •.¸¸.•´¯'•.♥꧁⁀✿❤✿⁀꧂•.♥ ║╚╣║║║║╩╣ ♪♫•.¸¸ ╚═╩═╩═╩Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ….☮*´¨♥꧁⁀✿❤✿⁀꧂•.♥

⣶⣶⡆⣶⣶⡀⣤⢾⡜⣾⣶⠆⢰⢶⣶⣶⡶⣶⣶⣶⣶⢶⣖⢶⡒⣖⢶⣶⡶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣶⣾⣶⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⡶⣿⣾⣿⡿⠱⡶⢫⡄⠹⣳⣾⣯⣿⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢿⣿⣷⠿⣷⣏⣿⣿⠡⠃⠸⢤⣻⣷⢰⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀ ⠋⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠈⠈⠉⠐⠭⠏⢸⡗⠀⡈⠐⡀⠫⢿⣎⣧⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠄⠁⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀ ⠿⠿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡷⠀⠀⠄⠡⠘⡌⣿⣻⣇⠞⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⡇⠀⠂⠀⠈⠀⠀⡀⢈⠀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠐⠠⢰⣠⣤⡀⠄⡠⠀⣿⠀⠐⢈⠐⡡⢒⠸⣿⣋⡞⡴⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣾⣦⣿⡄⠘⠀⢁⠠⠐⠀⡀⠌⠐⠀⡀⢀⠂⠁⠈⠀⠀⠈⠀ ⠀⡁⢲⣾⣿⡶⢶⠾⠿⠟⠀⡐⡀⠐⣸⠃⠀⠀⠃⡔⢡⠊⣽⣧⠳⡌⣇⠾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣏⠀⠐⠀⠄⢂⠠⢀⠐⡀⢂⠐⠠⠀⠂⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠄⡀⢈⠙⠛⠛⠋⡀⠄⡁⠆⢠⢡⣿⠷⠶⣾⣧⣴⣁⣎⡴⢻⡱⢜⣢⢛⣶⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣛⡿⣻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣳⢯⣏⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠌⠠⠐⠀⠀⠂⠐⠀⠂⠀⠂⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣤⣠⣤⣴⠤⠄⢦⠤⢴⢤⢴⣿⣟⣧⠠⢠⣀⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡰⢇⡧⣞⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣧⣟⣿⣻⢟⡼⣇⣿⢻⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣼⢿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀ ⠷⢶⠶⣶⠾⡿⢿⠿⡿⢿⠿⡿⠿⠿⡿⠶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡘⣎⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣷⣛⣮⢷⣫⢽⡞⡾⡽⣞⣯⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⢻⣿⣿⣧⠀⠂⠄⠡⠈⠄⡐⠀⡀⠂⠁⡐⠠⠐⠀⠈⠀ ⠛⠮⠝⠦⠋⠕⠋⡘⠡⠉⠂⠁⠉⠂⠡⠀⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⡗⠬⣛⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⡟⣿⣻⢿⡿⣿⡟⡿⣞⣽⢲⡽⣎⠷⣽⢮⡽⣳⢏⡷⡽⣞⣿⣟⣻⣽⡾⢋⣾⣿⣿⣿⡆⠡⠈⠄⡁⠂⠄⡁⠀⠄⠂⠠⠐⠠⢈⠠⠀ ⠙⠎⠘⠂⠱⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠘⡹⢣⡹⡜⡽⣼⠃⢣⡝⣾⢿⣻⣟⡿⣷⣯⢽⣣⢏⡯⣗⠻⡞⣝⠞⣬⢳⣳⢭⡟⣮⣳⢽⣣⢿⣱⣟⣿⣿⡹⣦⣭⢳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢢⠐⠀⠁⠂⠐⠁⠈⠀⠁⠀⠁⡀⢠⠀ ⠔⠢⡁⠆⡠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⡅⢃⠱⢬⢱⠏⡈⠦⡹⢽⣟⡼⣭⡟⣷⢫⢷⡩⢞⡴⣩⢳⡹⣜⡻⣼⢳⣽⢺⣝⡳⡽⣎⡷⣫⡗⣾⣿⣳⢏⣷⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡀⢄⡀⠆⡰⢀⠒⡌⠦⠱⡉⠖⡩⢆⡉ ⢬⡁⠰⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⡔⠡⢃⠆⡟⠠⠄⢡⠹⣎⠿⣼⢷⣽⣮⣛⢦⡙⣎⠶⡱⢧⡻⣜⣳⡭⡷⣞⢯⡞⣽⢳⡝⣾⡱⣏⣿⣷⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⢁⢂⡐⢂⠡⢈⠂⡐⠠⢁⡐⠌⡐⢢⡘ ⠀⡀⠂⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡆⢌⠒⡄⢊⠥⠀⣀⢣⡝⣎⢿⡹⣞⣿⣷⠎⠶⣙⢬⠳⣽⢳⣏⡷⣽⣚⠷⣽⢺⣝⢾⡹⣞⡵⣻⡜⣿⣟⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡗⢀⠂⡐⠄⢂⠢⠐⡁⢂⠡⠐⡈⠔⠡⠐ ⡀⠁⠐⡀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠈⡔⡈⢆⣸⣀⠂⠳⣸⣼⣶⣯⣵⣿⡿⣍⠆⡍⣎⢳⣏⠷⣾⣹⠶⣏⣟⢮⡟⣼⢳⡝⣮⡝⣧⢻⣽⣾⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⠏⠠⢁⠂⠜⡀⠢⢁⠐⠂⡁⢂⠡⠘⠠⠉ ⠙⠲⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠐⡡⢂⠆⣏⢛⠣⣌⡹⢻⣿⣟⣯⢗⢮⢳⡘⢬⡓⢮⣛⠶⣭⢟⡽⣪⢷⡹⣎⡿⣜⢧⡻⢬⣳⣿⣞⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠠⢁⠂⢉⠀⠀⠁⠂⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⢳⣤⣀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡦⠑⡌⡘⠤⢊⡱⢰⣿⢂⢧⣋⡾⣜⢣⢧⡙⣦⡙⢧⡚⡽⣌⢯⢞⡵⣫⢵⣫⢵⢫⠞⣭⢓⣾⣷⢫⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⢆⡁⢢⠌⣄⢢⣁⠒⡤⢑⢢⣑⠌⠆⠙⠈⠉ ⠀⡙⠻⣿⣶⣤⡤⠈⠙⠲⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠈⡔⢡⠊⡅⢢⣍⣛⣧⣮⢷⡼⣬⣓⡮⣙⠦⣝⡲⣙⢶⡹⣎⢾⡱⣏⠞⣦⢛⡬⣛⠴⣿⡟⣮⢟⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠎⢨⠑⡎⣔⣣⡬⠷⣛⣻⠩⠁⠀⣀⣤⣤⡶ ⠒⠻⢚⣩⣴⣾⣿⣮⣿⣷⣟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡈⢢⠱⣼⣿⠿⣿⠿⡿⢿⡿⣿⣿⡿⣯⢗⣮⣱⡙⢮⡕⢮⢳⡹⣌⠻⡔⡫⢴⣩⣿⢯⡽⣞⢯⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⡬⠶⠛⠋⠉⠀⠂⠉⠀⠀⣠⡴⣻⣉⣄⣤⢒ ⣥⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢩⡉⠒⠢⣄⣀⡠⠤⠄⡈⢿⡄⡡⠆⡌⢛⠡⣛⡙⣛⠛⣭⢳⡹⢮⣻⢼⣱⡛⣦⡙⣎⠧⡳⣌⠳⣱⣙⡶⣟⡧⢿⡼⣹⢞⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⠿⣜⢛⡛⣾⣿⣯ ⠛⠻⠿⠟⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠧⠬⠥⣉⠛⠋⠭⠤⠚⢢⣠⣼⠿⣿⣇⠰⢈⠆⡡⠝⡼⣡⢛⡴⢣⡝⣧⣛⢮⡳⣝⠦⡝⣜⢲⡑⢮⣱⢧⡾⣽⢺⣝⣳⢯⡽⣞⡽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠏⡿⢰⡒⡜⢮⣙⠯⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⣂⣀⠉⠤⢤⡤⡤⠤⠤⠤⢤⡉⣂⣐⣚⣠⠤⠤⡄⢄⠀⠈⢳⡤⡑⢌⠡⢃⠥⣋⡜⣣⡝⣶⡹⣎⠷⣍⢞⡱⢎⣲⡹⣞⢧⡟⣾⣱⢟⣮⢳⣏⡾⣵⢻⡽⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⠿⣄⠀⢀⣠⣤⢶⡾⠿⢾⣷⠷⣻⣼⣦⣍⣛⡴⣻ ⠇⡀⠀⠩⢩⣵⣲⠤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠁⣤⢀⣩⣽⣦⣜⠠⠒⡄⢎⠵⢺⠴⣫⣙⢚⡜⣎⠵⣫⢞⣵⢻⡞⡽⣎⢷⣫⢞⣳⢾⣱⢯⡳⣏⢷⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⠎⢻⣏⣭⣿⠟⢿⣮⣽⣥⣞⣤⣩⣙⣻⢾⣵⣷ ⠀⠉⠈⠉⢳⣤⣷⢀⣤⠐⣶⣤⠀⡀⠒⠒⢲⠒⠒⢲⣤⣤⡆⢈⣭⣤⣤⠉⠘⣷⠓⠈⡀⠉⡆⢳⢰⡌⡖⢸⡌⢳⠙⣾⢸⣧⢻⣵⢋⡞⣱⢋⣽⢺⣵⢋⣷⢹⣮⡕⠚⣿⣿⣿⡞⣰⠀⢹⣿⠋⣸⡖⣾⣴⢋⡝⢻⣷⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠲⡍⢎⠦⢀⡿⣍⣛⠶⢤⡲⢬⣍⣓⠒⠒⠒⠒⠲⠌⣙⠊⣉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣙⠖⣋⣷⣶⠌⢡⠈⡔⠢⡐⢡⠣⡜⢣⡛⣬⠳⡜⢦⢏⠾⣱⢏⡿⣜⢧⣛⠾⣜⡳⢎⡵⢫⠜⣿⣿⣷⣿⢢⠈⠑⢾⣡⢓⢦⣳⢮⡽⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡂⠘⡬⠲⢡⡄⢡⡈⡙⠲⠽⣀⢂⠥⠸⢦⡐⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣡⠜⠓⢚⣥⢶⠫⢧⣹⡇⠢⡁⠆⡑⢌⠢⠱⡜⣡⠏⡴⢫⡜⡭⢎⡝⢧⢻⢼⡹⢮⣝⡻⣜⠧⣏⠶⣩⢞⡰⢫⡿⠋⠀⠃⠀⠀⣙⣯⣞⣯⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠒⡉⠄⡃⠄⠈⠄⠄⢁⠃⠒⠈⠄⠃⠒⠠⠙⠮⣝⡒⠀⠀⠒⣡⠔⣲⠟⢉⠰⠉⣴⣿⠇⡡⢂⠱⡈⢄⠣⡑⡜⢤⠛⣌⠳⡸⣑⢫⢜⡣⢏⠶⣹⣓⠮⡵⣩⠞⣬⠓⣥⢚⣼⠟⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⢠⠋⠈⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠐⠀⠁⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠪⠭⣡⠞⣡⡞⠁⠌⡀⠂⣟⣾⣯⠓⠤⡁⢆⡑⡈⢆⠱⡘⠦⡙⢤⢋⡔⢣⠎⢦⡙⢮⡹⡱⢎⡻⡜⣥⠻⣔⠻⣔⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⡀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⢁⣼⠋⠀⠀⠄⡴⣻⣿⣿⢅⢫⢐⠡⢂⠔⣁⠊⡔⣡⢣⠙⢦⠩⣌⢣⠚⡴⣉⠶⣱⡹⢭⢳⡹⣜⢳⢬⣳⠟⢁⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣋⠀⣁⠠⣄⡄⡀⠂⠂⠄⠄⠀⠠⠀⣀⡤⠤⠖⠚⠁⠠⠊⡇⠀⠀⡇⢰⣿⣿⣿⢣⠞⣂⠎⡱⢈⠔⡠⠘⡄⢂⠦⡙⣂⠳⢄⢣⡑⢦⡑⢧⢣⡝⣎⢧⡓⣎⣧⡿⠉⡰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠒⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿ ⣐⡂⢈⡑⠢⡀⢩⠡⠼⢘⣒⡿⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠠⠊⠀⢸⠁⠀⢸⡵⣿⣿⣿⢧⣏⢚⡤⢋⠄⢣⠘⡄⢣⡘⠤⢒⠡⡜⡘⣌⠒⡬⢢⡙⢦⠳⡜⡜⢦⣹⡾⠋⡠⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉ ⠤⢖⣰⢢⣒⡔⣦⠷⠒⠉⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⢈⠆⣿⣿⣛⡾⣌⢧⡘⣌⠊⡄⢣⠘⢦⠱⡩⢎⡱⢰⠡⢦⠙⡔⣣⡙⣎⠳⣍⣞⡵⠏⢠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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heal🩹

⣿⣿⡿⣭⢏⡿⣽⣻⣟⡿⣏⣟⣻⣟⡯⢧⠁⣊⠿⣽⢿⡿⣟⣯⢿⡽⣫⢟⡧⢣⣏⠿⣭⡳⢍⠂⠉⠉⠳⡱⢢⠰⣬⠳⡍⢾⣽⣯⡗⣧⢚⡱⢌⢦⡐⢀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⣀⣦⣙⡮⡑⢎⡱⣙⢮⡱⢣⠌⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⢤⡙⢎⠳⡰⢠⢂⠄⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣳⣯⣟⡿⣳⢟⡾⡽⢫⠞⣵⢾⣹⢧⡷⢮⣟⣯⣿⡹⢚⡽⠎⣷⡹⣏⢞⡱⢎⣿⢳⡻⣜⠲⡀⠂⠀⠀⠁⠃⢌⠳⣉⠞⡱⢏⡻⣜⢧⡿⣜⣶⣥⢶⣶⣶⢿⠦⣶⡶⣾⣾⣷⣾⣿⢶⣯⢷⢭⣢⢵⣏⠦⠙⠢⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠶⠉⡀⢢⠵⣋⠞⡜⡐⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂ ⡙⣞⣿⣳⢯⣷⣽⣺⢷⣭⢣⣟⡼⢫⣟⡯⣝⢣⣟⡾⣵⢫⢇⠂⡉⢶⡱⢫⣖⡘⢮⡹⢳⡻⣜⠳⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠢⠓⡌⡐⣠⢏⡴⢩⣞⣽⣟⢿⢿⣿⡺⠿⣖⣒⠬⠉⡿⣈⠻⣔⡙⢦⠅⠂⠙⡏⡏⣷⣔⡼⠀⣄⠂⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⡼⣩⣛⣬⢫⡜⣡⢃⠖⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠ ⡵⢪⣟⣿⣿⡿⣞⣿⡿⣽⣛⡾⡵⢫⣜⠰⣨⢷⣯⣟⣾⣻⡬⢆⠀⠊⠵⢯⣖⣯⡳⣍⠣⡙⢮⡕⡠⢄⠠⠀⠀⢀⠣⢡⠀⠑⠣⢎⣸⢟⠻⣌⢺⡻⣦⡛⢿⣝⢄⠙⠟⠲⣿⣿⣦⡈⠫⣒⣄⢀⢄⡀⠀⣉⠹⢺⡿⣾⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣱⠧⢯⡜⣧⡟⡔⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡈⠵ ⣝⢯⣾⡿⣟⣿⡿⣽⣛⠗⡃⢯⣝⡳⣎⢣⡑⣎⢷⣻⣼⣳⢻⡝⣦⢀⢠⠛⣎⢳⣙⢦⡃⢌⠲⣝⠧⠌⢠⢁⡐⠠⠈⢆⠀⠠⢁⡷⣡⢮⣷⣻⣷⣍⣾⣌⠪⣝⣷⣧⣆⣀⠈⠿⢿⣿⣦⣽⣿⣿⣿⣷⣔⡎⠾⠋⢩⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⠱⣌⡻⣖⡹⠜⡹⢎⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡙ ⢯⡻⢇⠑⠚⠉⠀⣣⡝⣦⢱⢫⡾⣽⡹⢶⡽⣘⢎⠷⣳⣭⡳⡝⢦⣛⢮⠱⣀⠃⢯⠳⣝⢪⠕⣪⢝⡂⠄⠂⠰⡁⠉⠢⣁⢶⠏⠰⣻⣿⡷⣟⣿⣻⣽⣾⣷⣾⣿⣻⡿⣿⡻⠗⠚⠲⠿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠠⠶⢴⣻⡆⡀⢀⠀⡄⠠⢀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠌⢳⡉⢎⠁⢧⡻⡔⡌⡄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡸⡁⠄ ⣧⡙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠝⢮⡳⢧⣻⠱⣍⡳⣽⡰⢎⡀⢀⡳⣽⣹⣏⡳⢌⡳⣆⠞⣬⢛⣬⡳⢎⡵⢪⢑⠂⡈⠰⢁⠀⠀⢋⠎⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣻⣽⣯⣟⣟⣯⣗⣶⣦⣭⠿⠷⠿⠿⠿⢿⡟⢿⠁⣦⣦⣿⣏⣷⡡⢢⠜⡠⢃⠢⠌⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⠙⢦⡘⢧⡝⢾⣱⠎⠐⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀ ⣷⣿⣮⣤⣄⣀⡤⣟⠤⡰⣙⢧⢣⠝⣦⢻⢾⣽⣳⡒⠄⢣⢱⡿⡌⠁⠯⢶⣍⣛⢦⡛⡴⡳⣌⠎⢅⠪⣔⠁⠀⠀⢀⠰⢣⣼⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣛⣛⣩⣍⣩⣤⣼⣷⣘⡧⠀⠙⣝⡲⠈⢿⣇⠊⡅⢄⠂⠡⠀⠀⠀⠐⠂⠉⠀⠉⢆⠛⣧⢿⡌⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄ ⣿⡿⣿⣟⣾⣳⣿⡝⢢⡱⣏⠶⣡⢚⡼⣫⢞⣼⣳⡝⡀⠀⢫⠞⢩⢆⣘⢧⡞⣽⣲⣝⢲⡙⢖⠮⡄⢳⡬⢳⠄⡠⣨⢞⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⡷⠹⢟⣿⣿⣿⠟⡿⠋⢁⣦⣥⣾⣓⡋⠘⣦⡝⡌⢂⠌⡴⠠⢄⡰⠠⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠆⠯⣜⠲⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢁⠂⠀⡀⢤⡚⡔ ⡿⣽⢿⣻⣿⣯⣷⢿⣇⡳⢭⠚⡴⣋⠾⣵⣫⠞⣧⢛⡤⣃⢮⡐⢤⡚⡽⢎⣝⡲⡹⣞⢧⡜⣌⠲⣨⢱⢾⡝⣦⡵⡕⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣟⣋⢠⣴⣋⢄⠄⡴⣯⣶⣷⣿⡦⡄⢹⣧⡙⠤⠙⡴⣛⢦⡅⠀⠀⠠⢀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡲⣬⢳⡄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢌⠲⣁⠂⡐⠠ ⢧⣛⣾⣻⡽⣯⣛⠾⣝⠣⢈⠢⣡⢛⠶⣭⢛⡶⣭⡚⡥⠛⡌⢳⢌⠷⣣⢞⡽⣣⢧⢛⡼⣣⢍⠲⣏⠾⡜⣷⢟⡕⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣼⡀⣧⣻⡿⢿⡻⣷⡇⢸⣯⢱⣂⠦⣱⢛⡮⡑⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠄⠐⡌⢧⠛⢮⠱⡁⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢋⠦⡑⢢ ⣿⡽⣶⢣⠟⡶⢭⡻⣽⣣⢆⡵⣂⢯⡻⣌⢇⡚⢡⠓⠌⠓⢬⠳⣬⢳⡱⢎⡜⣣⢏⣞⢲⡱⣮⠝⣜⡣⡜⣬⡿⠚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢞⡇⠆⡍⢶⡁⠎⡀⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⡱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⡉⠆ ⣿⣟⣧⠛⡜⣰⢫⡕⣣⢟⡿⣶⣝⣮⢷⣫⣞⢦⣣⠎⠀⠈⠀⠉⠌⢳⣹⢶⣹⣽⢺⣌⠧⡱⣙⠾⣱⠏⡖⣼⢁⡦⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡇⢣⣿⡽⣜⢧⡜⡀⠐⢤⢃⡎⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢢⢱⠳⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⣏⢶⣉⠖⡡⢳⡜⡱⢎⡜⣳⠾⣽⣯⣷⢯⣟⣷⣊⠔⠰⣈⠶⣹⠶⣯⢏⡷⣫⢷⡞⣷⢳⡍⡚⠥⣊⠟⣽⢸⠁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⡿⠣⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡿⢯⡿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡟⣙⢾⣷⢫⡞⠶⣡⢉⢦⢣⡜⡰⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡐⠀⠀⠀ ⡳⣍⢖⡩⣒⡀⢧⣘⡙⠮⣜⡵⢫⡟⣽⣿⣿⣻⢾⣝⣮⢱⣌⢣⢧⡻⡕⢫⠜⣧⢻⡜⢣⠏⠲⢉⣲⢋⣾⡿⡇⢀⡼⠫⡝⠑⣄⠀⠀⠀⣰⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⡿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢛⠶⣹⡝⣣⢟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⡾⠈⢳⡙⢢⢥⣛⢮⠳⣌⡱⢌⠢⠁⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡌⢆⠰⢀⠒⠄ ⡱⢎⡺⢰⢡⠛⡜⢦⡙⡖⢩⠚⡥⢛⡳⢏⡾⣱⢯⣞⣮⢷⣚⢯⢂⠑⡈⢡⡚⠜⠣⢻⡁⢊⠡⡾⢃⣿⣿⠇⡇⢿⣁⢠⠁⠀⠸⣷⣀⣰⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⢎⡭⢚⡱⢎⡵⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢼⡗⠀⠀⢌⡡⢎⠷⣪⠕⣮⠕⡊⠀⡐⢀⠂⠀⠂⠌⠄⢢⢱⢂⡐⢦⡓⡜⡌⠒⣤⡉⢆ ⡱⢎⠵⣋⢦⡉⠌⠀⠈⡵⢦⡓⡴⢩⢳⡩⢞⡝⢮⡻⣭⢳⢯⡞⢦⠘⣄⠣⡝⢦⠰⡀⠦⡽⣛⣱⣻⣿⣿⡆⠳⠀⢻⢨⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⡿⠟⢫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣣⠙⢦⡘⢣⠝⡮⣜⣳⢻⣿⢿⢾⣏⡿⢞⠠⣀⠂⠀⠉⠸⣥⢛⡬⢓⠠⠁⡐⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢊⡳⢎⡴⢣⡑⡞⣜⡳⢦⡹⢠ ⡱⢊⡜⡱⢺⡼⣆⡀⣀⢉⢣⡝⣮⢓⡧⣝⠎⡜⢠⠙⡜⢯⡞⣜⠠⠉⠂⢝⡜⣣⠑⣄⠣⡽⢣⣯⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠦⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⠿⠿⢿⠿⠿⠛⡁⢎⠠⡉⢦⣉⣧⣚⡵⣚⣼⣻⣯⡿⣿⢿⠏⡜⠰⢢⣏⡔⢢⠳⣌⠳⡜⡡⢆⡡⠠⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡙⢮⣱⢳⡼⣹⢮⣝⢣⠐⡁ ⠰⣉⠦⣱⢏⡾⣱⡛⠖⡯⢖⡻⣜⣣⠞⣭⡚⣤⢓⠎⡜⣣⠝⣎⠷⣆⣀⠠⠘⢄⠳⠯⡽⢅⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⣴⣿⣿⣿⣷⠂⠄⠀⠀⢂⠰⣱⡾⣿⢿⣟⡛⢋⡙⢛⠿⣷⡏⣿⣽⣽⣿⠿⠈⠀⢉⣲⡽⢎⡳⣍⢆⡳⣌⡑⢦⡑⢢⠁⠂⠀⠀⠠⠱⣌⠓⣧⢚⣧⢻⣝⡿⣬⢃⢎⠰ ⢒⢬⡚⣵⣯⢿⡥⠁⢌⡰⢣⡹⣬⢳⣛⣶⡹⠆⢏⠚⡵⢣⢞⡴⡻⡜⣥⠳⣍⡆⠁⠈⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠐⠠⠌⡩⠍⠡⠈⠀⠀⠀⢆⣿⣿⣿⣋⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⡞⣼⢻⣯⣿⢿⣿⡛⠠⣀⠳⣌⠳⡡⢖⡭⣞⡵⣎⡜⢦⡙⢆⠀⠀⠀⡀⢃⠣⢠⠉⢖⡫⢞⡽⢺⡽⣧⢏⣎⢒ ⡉⢦⡹⣞⡿⣟⠿⣡⢦⡹⣷⣻⡳⢯⡝⣮⢳⣉⢆⡹⣜⢯⢞⡲⣍⠳⣌⠓⡍⡞⡤⣄⢣⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢌⣻⡽⢷⡌⢏⠻⠿⣿⢿⡿⣻⢽⣟⣾⣿⣏⣼⣧⢣⠁⠀⠡⢈⢣⡙⣎⢶⡹⣞⡵⣺⢧⡛⠮⠑⠊⠀⠀⠀⡖⢦⡙⢤⡙⡞⠼⠣⢿⡜⣣⠞⡬ ⣱⢣⠛⠌⡱⣎⣳⡔⣮⢳⠭⣳⠹⣧⢻⡝⣧⠻⣬⠳⣏⣟⡾⡱⣎⡳⣌⢒⣈⢒⡱⣺⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⣯⢽⣚⢬⢣⡙⡜⢢⢋⠶⡱⡞⣼⣧⣿⣷⣿⡛⡄⢊⠤⡱⣎⢧⡜⣼⣳⣟⣧⢻⡕⣎⠐⠀⠁⠀⠠⡀⠜⡸⢧⠛⡆⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢡⠛⡜ ⢣⡏⣞⡵⣿⣻⢧⠻⣜⣣⢣⢳⡻⣜⢧⣻⡼⣛⢄⠒⣸⡜⡲⠍⠰⢙⠒⠯⡘⢆⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⢂⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⢱⣛⡮⣙⠆⣃⠒⣌⠣⢎⡳⣝⢳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⠣⣝⠢⠱⠳⣽⣳⣞⢷⣛⡾⣭⡳⡜⣄⢂⠀⠀⠀⠐⠉⠀⠀⠀⠡⠀⠀⠠⠀⢆⠲⡌⠶⡩⢜ ⣿⡽⣞⡟⣧⢛⡬⠑⣜⢦⣋⠶⣙⠬⣣⢧⣹⣽⣬⢫⡔⢯⠵⣮⡭⢆⡙⢆⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠄⠃⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⠀⠀⢀⠣⢞⡳⡁⠎⡀⠣⠤⡙⣌⠳⣡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⠷⣈⢯⠻⡵⢶⣳⡞⣯⣽⣻⢷⣝⡳⠌⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠌⠓⠈⢇⠱⠈ ⣧⡝⣦⠻⣴⢫⡔⢩⢞⣳⡝⣮⠱⢊⠔⢢⣽⣾⣿⠓⣍⣧⡳⣒⢮⡽⢮⣳⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡒⢠⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠰⢸⡳⢎⡵⢸⡄⠠⢑⠢⡱⣌⢳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⡧⣼⣦⢡⣘⣯⣷⣿⡳⢎⡝⢫⡞⡥⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⣟⢦⢛⡼⢳⠈⠂⢏⡿⣙⢦⠩⠀⠀⠓⠾⣽⣿⣝⠲⣜⢻⣱⢖⡾⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢂⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠸⠿⣦⡦⢤⣤⣃⡔⣠⢣⣙⢮⣜⡧⠾⢁⠎⡲⡱⣎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣆⣷⡻⣮⣿⣟⡿⣿⣷⣙⢆⡈⣱⢻⡐⠁⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣟⣮⢳⡞⡧⠀⠀⠀⠎⡑⢎⡓⠀⠀⢀⡹⣿⣿⡎⠳⣜⢫⡽⣫⢞⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⣌⠻⢷⠶⣯⣭⣽⣷⣿⡿⢋⠔⡁⢢⢎⡵⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⢽⣻⣎⡳⣯⣽⣿⣷⢫⣞⡶⣣⡿⡔⡀⠀⠴⡨⢏⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈ ⣿⣿⣜⣷⣻⡵⠀⠀⢈⠒⣄⠲⡌⢆⡰⢌⡳⢽⣻⡀⠀⡜⢇⡳⣉⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠁⠄⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⠙⠚⠧⠷⠼⢷⡛⢧⢃⢣⠐⣌⡶⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣞⢯⣾⢽⣻⣥⠿⣿⣯⠁⠀⠀⠉⣷⠡⠀⠁⠂⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣯⢿⡻⠵⡁⠀⠀⠌⠰⣫⣜⠣⠜⡬⢣⠍⣿⣧⡆⣙⡌⣡⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡈⡐⠀⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠠⢈⡑⢢⢡⡙⢦⡙⢦⣫⣶⢿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⡻⢹⡻⢽⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠐⢦⡃⠀⠢⡑⢢⠱⡀⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣟⣷⣯⣷⣩⠒⡁⠀⠈⡄⢣⡵⢺⠅⠈⠖⡱⢪⡴⣿⣓⢶⡹⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡔⢁⠂⠄⠈⠂⠄⠠⠐⠠⠘⢠⠣⡝⢦⣽⡷⣟⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⡛⠧⠄⠀⠀⠸⡗⠀⠀⠀⠣⣇⠀⠐⠀⠂⠡⠐⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡿⢏⣏⢾⣡⠐⢬⡑⢮⡵⣫⠔⡁⢎⣳⡾⢃⠫⢿⣜⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⣉⠰⢀⡁⢂⠐⢠⠢⢅⠢⢌⢦⠳⣞⢯⡳⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡿⢿⣷⣤⣤⢀⡐⠶⢷⡀⠀⠀⠠⣟⣤⣀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⡾⡽⠎⠞⠳⠀⠀⠢⡙⢮⠳⠓⢮⠱⣋⢏⠴⢂⢀⣿⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢢⡑⢢⠐⡂⠌⡄⠒⡌⡑⢎⢆⡻⡜⣮⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣎⡙⣯⢙⢻⣻⡶⣄⣈⠻⠒⠢⢶⣎⡙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣯⠃⡉⢄⡓⠌⢊⡜⣤⢖⡿⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢳⡌⢢⠑⡌⢒⠨⡑⢢⡙⢎⢬⠳⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣵⣋⣼⡫⡶⣦⣤⡀⢩⣓⠢⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢒⠠⡀⠤⢀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡙⢆⠳⣘⠮⣙⡞⣥⣺⢽⣓⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡗⢮⡑⠬⣐⠡⣂⠍⢢⡑⢎⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢽⣯⣻⣻⣬⡿⣠⣬⢿⣎⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠊⠐⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠈⠁⠉⠓⠁⡚⢑⡯⣖⣻⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣣⠜⡱⢂⠳⡌⡜⣡⠚⣌⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣰⣿⡿⢿⣾⡞⣥⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣵⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢷⡙⣜⡩⡓⡜⠴⡃⠭⣠⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣶⣯⡷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣄⠠⢀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣒⡲⡴⡾⢟⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢏⡞⢤⢳⡹⢌⢣⣑⠳⣉⢶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡾⣱⠢⠜⠀⠁⠀⠀⠉⠑⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⡞⣜⠣⢧⣙⠎⣖⡡⢓⡌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠠⣑⢎⡰⣀⠆⡠⢀⠀⡄⠄ ⢡⢡⢃⡀⠠⡄⢤⠠⡄⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⡸⣌⢛⢦⡙⡞⡴⢩⠖⡬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣷⢮⡻⣴⢋⡞⣥⢏⠶⡨⠑ ⢎⣳⢏⡌⡑⢈⠂⡱⠘⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢱⢪⡍⠶⡹⢬⡱⣃⠞⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⢿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡳⣝⠶⣫⢞⡱⣎⡳⢥⣋

⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⡟⢟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⠉⠉⠙⠛⢿⠀⠘⢧⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢶⣤⡶⠀⢸⣀⡀⠘⡇⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠴⠶⠶⠶⠶⠿⢬⣿⣿⣆⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠛⠙⡏⠨⡿⣿⡟⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣟⣹⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠁⠀⠑⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣲⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡆⠀⠓⢘⡻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⢹⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣬⣿⣿⣽⡆⠀⠀⠸⡄⢠⣾⣷⣶⣦⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣠⠤⠲⠟⣩⣴⡚ ⢻⣟⣛⠿⣿⣟⣶⠦⠿⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⢀⣰⣿⢁⠙⢿ ⠀⠹⣿⡳⣄⣨⣭⣭⣙⣲⢟⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⡿⣿⡛⠛⢮⣽⣶ ⠀⠀⠉⠛⠋⠙⢦⡄⠁⣶⡾⠟⣽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡿⠙⢈⢶⣶⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣨⣿⠟⢁⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠀⠀⠊⠀⢛⠿⣿⣿ ⡀⢀⢀⡴⡖⠊⠉⠀⢹⠐⢾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙

ღღ 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 ღღ ♥♥ღღღღ♥ ƳƠƲ ԼЄƑƬ ƲS ƁЄƛƲƬƖƑƲԼ MЄMƠƦƖЄS♥ღღღღ♥♥

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⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ 🟪⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜ 🟪⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜ 🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜ 🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜ ⬜🟪⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜ ⬜🟪⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜🟪⬜⬜⬛⬛🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜ ⬜🟪⬛⬜🟦⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛🟦⬜⬛🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜ ⬜🟪⬜🟦⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛🟦⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜ ⬜🟪⬜⬜🟦⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛🟦⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪⬜ ⬜⬜🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪⬜🟪🟪🟪🟪 ⬜⬜⬜🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜🟪🟪🟪⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢀⣈⣴⠻⣦⠴⡶⢖⠦⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠊⠁⠀⣿⡴⠉⣏⠉⠢⣧⢀⠀⢘⠓⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠉⠉⠉⠒⣿⡠⠜⠉⣆⠀⠹⡇⠀⠹⢂⣥⡞⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠃⠉⠉⠀⣀⣀⣹⣄⣠⠜⠘⠋⠒⠻⠤⢧⣾⠋⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⢀⣠⠔⠮⡁⠀⢠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢠⠀⡗⢤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡷⠋⠀⠈⠑⢌⣷⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣠⣴⣄⣤⡀⢠⠎⠀⣇⠀⢻⣄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠦⣀⣠⣄⣀⠀⡿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⠛⢿⡏⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⢣⢸⠘⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣥⣴⠋⠙⡇⢿⡇⠀⠀⡾⢻⢸⣿⣄⣼⠃⠀⠀⢠⡏⢱⠀⡟⠀⢹ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠴⠶⠶⠤⢤⣀⠀⠀⣏⠀⠴⠏⢀⣠⣷⡼⠃⠀⢸⠃⠈⢆⠙⢿⠏⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠘ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⣌⠛⠚⠋⠁⣏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⣀⢸⣀⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠏⢸⠀⠀⢀⡠⠄⣒⣂⣑⠒⠢⢄⡈⠳⡄⠀⠀⠈⠲⢄⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡧⠞⠉⠀⣀⡤⣄⠀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠋⡇⣿⢀⠔⢉⠔⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⢌⢦⡘⣆⠀⣀⣀⣀⠈⠉⠑⠒⠒⢲⠒⡺⠛⠉⠀⣠⠴⣭⡀⢀⡜⢇⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠸⡇⢸⡎⣰⠃⠀⢀⠴⠚⠉⠉⠑⠒⢤⡑⣷⡾⣏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠒⠒⠒⠋⠐⣇⡀⠀⠸⣥⠔⢋⡷⠎⠀⢸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠀⢣⠀⢳⡇⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡟⠀⢛⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣕⠒⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⡰⢻⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⢆⠀⠳⣄⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⠻⡼⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡀⠀⡀⠔⠋⣀⡼⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡙⢄⠈⢦⠀⠈⠻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⡜⡞⢳⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⠛⠒⠒⣉⠝⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠈⠣⡀⠑⢄⠀⠈⠙⠦⣀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠦⠧⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠉⢻⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⠀⠙⢦⡀⠙⠦⣀⣀⠜⠃⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⡎⠓⠒⠒⢲⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢨⡏⠲⣄⠀⠀⣀⣨⠷⠲⡄⠙⠢⣀⡼⠋⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⢀⡠⣶⠊⠁⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⡞⠒⠢⣌⣿⡇⢹⠀⢇⠀⠸⡀⠀⡞⠀⡠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣠⠾⣅⠉⠀⡴⠋⠀⡇⢸⠀⢸⠀⢀⡇⡜⢠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀ ⣇⠀⠻⣱⣞⠀⠀⢰⠁⡎⠀⢸⠀⣸⠙⠁⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⡀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀ ⠘⢆⠀⠀⠈⠒⣲⠃⠰⠁⠀⡸⢠⠏⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠦⠤⠤⠤⠔⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⠒⠒⠚⠉⠓⠓⠤⣤⣣⠏⠀⠀⠀⠹⣤⠤⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠈⠓⠲⠤⠤⠤⠞⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠉⠹⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⠇⠀⠀

Warrior of God By reddit user KMApok "If God exists, why is there so much evil in the world?" It's a common question, but it is misplaced. All things must have balance. Light and dark. Good and evil. Sound and silence. Without one, the other cannot exist. "So if that's true, then God does NOTHING to fight evil?" That might be your follow up question. Of course he fights evil. Relentlessly. I am one of His most Holy and Righteous angels. I roam the Earth, disposing of evil wherever I find it. I kill the monsters you don't ever want to know about. I crush them completely so you can sleep at night. You humans have no idea how many of you live because of the work I do. "But what about Stalin? Hitler? Ted Bundy? Jack the Ripper? Well, those are the minor ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I destroy are....too horrible and vile to survive. What's funny, is while I would wager you never have heard me by bame in any relegious texts, I bet you have heard of me. Americans, for example, have their own name for me: Sudden Infant Death Syndrome

Personal Data: Surname: Ray Given Name: Luther Death Date: Age: 5 Town: Publication Data: Source: Grand Prairie Hustler (newspaper) Section: Page: Death Notice Dates: First: Obituary Dates: First: 29 Sep 1904 Additional Information: Notes / Comments: Grand Prairie Hustler, September 29, 1904 Luther Ray, a 5-year-old boy of Pleasant Mount, I. T., was smothered in a wagon load of cotton. He was playing in the wagon and the men not knowing he was there, filled the wagon with cotton.

Jan 10 1902 Thomas Hahn Miner Plainsville <> Alex Hahn Mar 1897 Jan 9 1902 4 yrs, 10 mos. Bite of a dog

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ʰᵉᵃᵈˡᵉˢˢᶰᵉˢˢ ⁻ ᵃᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡʸ ᵒᶰᵉ ˢᶤᶰᵍˡᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁻ ᵐᵒᶰᵒᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᶤᶜ˒ ᵐᵒᶰᵒᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗʷᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁻ ᵇᶤᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᶤˢᵐ˒ ᵈᶤᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗʳᶤᵖˡᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁻ ᵗʳᶤᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᶤᶜ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁻ ᵠᵘᵃᵈʳᶤᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᵒᵘˢ˒ ᵗᵉᵗʳᵃᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᶠᶤᵛᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁻ ᵖᵉᶰᵗᵃᶜᵉᵖʰᵃˡᵒᵘˢ

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💿.°˖🛼*✮🖇

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣶⡿⣿⢟⡿⣿⣽⣾⣹⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣞⡽⣾⣿⣯⣟⢿⣳⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣻⢞⡽⣽⣫⢿⡵⣯⢟⡿⣿⣟⡾⢿⣿⣿⡷⡽⣿⣿⣞⣯⢷⣻⢿⣷⣤⠤⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡿⣟⣳⢯⢿⣹⢷⣫⢯⣟⡾⢯⡿⣵⣻⢿⣿⣾⣻⣿⣿⡽⣿⣟⣮⣟⣽⡿⡻⠁⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣰⣿⣯⣿⣽⣭⣿⡿⠿⠿⢯⣷⣯⣽⣯⣟⣵⣫⢷⣛⣿⡿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠻⢷⢿⣾⡹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢰⣿⢿⢯⡷⢯⣷⣿⣆⠄⠀⠀⠀⠩⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢲⠁⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣼⣿⣼⣿⡟⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠛⣘⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢰⣿⡿⣏⣷⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⢰⠀⠙⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣼⣟⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⢤⡀⠀⡸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠁⠀⠀⣯⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣷⡿⣽⡿⢳⠀⠙⠺⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠀⠀⢰⢿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢿⣿⣁⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣟⣯⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⢿⣿⣿⣗⡮⣧⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠊⠁⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣞⣿⡿⣼⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣯⣿⣿⠀⠈⢻⢨⡏⠳⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣀⣀⣗⢀⣤⠇⢀⡤⢀⣠⣿⣿⣟⡷⣻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⠿⣿⣿⣯⢿⡿⣿⡽⣿⣿⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣶⡧⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣷⣿⠟⠋⠙⢿⡏⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⡉⣁⣿⡿⣿⣽⣻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢻⣯⣟⣿⣟⣷⣿⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⢀⣎⡀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣛⣿⣷⢯⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣏⣙⣿⣶⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⢺⣿⣿⣻⢾⣿⣻⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⣠⠔⠀⠀⠀⣧⣿⣿⢯⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⢿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⢴⣊⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⠴⠒⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣟⣿⣾⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⡴⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢹⣿⣿⣾⣯⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣾⣿⣿⣯⣟⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢿⣽⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠠⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡏⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢀⠇⢸⣿⣾⣽⣫⣟⣾⣧⣿⢿⣽⡇⠀⠀⠈⠳⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡏⠀⢸⠀⣾⣯⡿⣽⡻⢿⣝⡿⣼⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⣶⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠀⠀⡇⠀⣿⣷⣽⣞⣽⣻⣾⠟⠏⠉⠻⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣻⣿⣿⣻⣶⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠰⠀⢠⣿⣿⣯⣟⣯⡿⡗⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⡆⠀⠀⢱⣿⣟⣿⣯⣿⣷⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⣀⣬⣿⣿⠷⠿⢿⠍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣵⠷⠀⠀⠀⢾⡿⣿⣞⣿⣾⣻ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣤⣤⣾⢿⣻⢯⢷⣻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠙⠁⣠⠆⠀⠰⣼⣿⡽⣿⣞⣿⣽ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⡟⢻⣿⣽⡏⣷⣯⡟⢳⡟⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⠋⡇⠀⣾⠁⠀⢠⣾⣿⣷⣿⡟⣾⡟⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⢿⣷⣭⣟⡿⣞⡿⣿⣧⢿⣹⢯⡿⣽⢷⣄⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⣈⣁⣠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣻⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡽⣷⣾⡽⣻⢾⣝⢿⣯⣯⢷⣏⡿⣽⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣟⣿⣺⡟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣿⢿⣽⣯⢞⡿⣼⣻⢿⣾⣽⢶⣛⡾⣽⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣯⣿⣾⢿⡽⣞⣳⣾⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣯⣿⣿⣽⣳⣏⡿⣞⣯⢿⣯⣿⣾⣹⢮⡷⢯⡿⡽⣯⠿⣽⡻⣽⣞⣽⣾⣽⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠒⠙⠻⢾⣟⡿⣿⣷⣽⣾⡽⣺⡽⣞⣿⣻⢿⡿⣾⢿⣷⣿⣷⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠾⠿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣶⣯⣿⣾⡽⠿⠾⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣷⣄⠀⠙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠷⠖⠀⠂⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡯⠙⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⢸⣶⣶⣴⣦⣶⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢻⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠈⠛⠿⣿⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣦⣤⣀⣀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⢿⡝⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⡇⠀⢀⣠⡴⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣖⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⠾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⢿⡿⠓⠉⠉⠁⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣯⣈⠹⢿⣿⣿⣻⡿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⢠⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣅⣀⠙⠻⣷⣯⣟⣳⢯⣟⡿⢿⣻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣀⣠⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣮⣟⣯⢷⣛⡷⣯⢶⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣾⣯⣯⣽⣞⣟⣾⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠻⠾⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⡅⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡯⢸⣧⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢶⣦⣤⣤⣤⣽⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⢙⣷⣶⣷⣄⡤⠻⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠛⠳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡄⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡌⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⡇⠀⠐⠲⠚⠛⠿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⣸⡇⢸⣿⣷⡀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠷⣶⠁⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⣿⣿⣿⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣾⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠈⡇⠀⠘⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠟⠋⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢹⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⢷⣿⣧⣴⣧⡀⠀⢸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⣹⣷⡀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣀⣀⣤⡾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⡾⠃⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠻⣿⣟⣾⣽⣿⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠛⢧⣄⠀⠀⠠⠿⠛⢹⡟⠈⠻⣦⡀⠘⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠙⣷⣤⣀⣠⣴⠟⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⣾⠋⠁⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

❦˚.🎀༘⋆

🎰🎲♠♢

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩ ♡ "𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡." ♡. ✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮👑🎵✨💎🔥

🌃🚅✈️

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.romi.gov/DocumentCenter/View/1546&ved=2ahUKEwjOhv_BwIyHAxUnLkQIHSI5B8w4HhAWegQIGRAB&usg=AOvVaw17gt2LeZw0RCEB1FIJQ1xk

November 17, 2013 It's hard to forget Someone who gave you So much to remember.

💐 Even if they're young, their stories shouldn't be forgotten. 💐

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The Vanishing Hitch-Hiker Author: Jan Harold Brunvand This next eerie story is about a man driving home late in the night when he spots a girl asking for a hitchhike. The pretty girl is dressed in a beautiful white dress. The man offers her a ride and they strike up an interesting conversation. He drops the girl at her home. Next day, while driving for work he notices that the girl by accident has forgotten her sweater in his car. He drives towards her home to hand over the sweater. An old lady opens the door when he rings the bell. He narrates the incident which occurred last night and gives the sweater to the lady. The lady refuses to accept it, saying he is mistaken. The man is surprised and questions the lady again. He is dumbstruck and left in an unsettling situation when the lady says her daughter died in a car accident a couple of years ago.

I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.

𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⡤⠤⢤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠐⠒⡄⠀⡠⠒⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⠤⠤⣤⣤⣤⡄ ⠈⠻⣿⡤⠤⡏⠀⠉⠙⠲⣄⠀⢰⢠⠃⢀⡤⠞⠋⠉⠈⢹⠤⢼⣿⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⣿⡅⠓⢒⡤⠤⠀⡈⠱⣄⣼⡴⠋⡀⠀⠤⢤⡒⠓⢬⣿⠃⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣯⣐⢷⣀⣀⢤⡥⢾⣿⠷⢥⠤⣀⣀⣞⣢⣽⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢙⣿⠝⠀⢁⠔⡨⡺⡿⡕⢔⠀⡈⠐⠹⣟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣟⢦⢶⢅⠜⢰⠃⠀⢹⡌⢢⣸⠦⠴⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⡬⡌⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⣧⢧⣵⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⢻⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀

General anesthesia is a combination of medications that provide loss of consciousness, prevent memory formation, and eliminate pain. This allows a patient to have surgery without any memory of the event and to be completely pain free during the procedure. Most will get a little silly and lightheaded, thence may not even remember things about. The goal of general anesthesia is to make a person unconscious and keep him or her that way throughout a procedure. This is so the patient has no awareness or recollection of this procedure, so they have no knowledge it even happened. General anesthesia does a number of things on top of making a person unconscious. It relieves anxiety, minimizes pain, relaxes muscles (to keep the patient still), and helps block out the memory of the procedure itself. Most of the time, when you wake up and the anesthesia effect wears off, you will be confused and overwhelmed, even completely unaware of surroundings. Some will be talking without knowing what they’re saying.

𝔍𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫

24 April 2027 If a woman's baby dies before labour starts, she will usually be offered medicine to help induce labour. If your baby has died, you may be able to wait for labour to start naturally or your labour may be induced. If your health is at risk, the baby may need to be delivered as soon as possible. Some parents want to have the induction as soon as possible. Others prefer to wait for a day or two so that they have time to take in what has happened and to see if labour starts by itself. Waiting for natural labour increases the chance of the baby deteriorating in the womb. This can affect how the baby looks when she or he is born and can make it more difficult to find out what caused the death. Finding out your baby has died is devastating. You should be offered support and have your options explained to you. If you're alone in hospital, ask the staff to contact someone close to you to come in and be with you. Before the birth, a person with skills and experience with parents who have lost a baby should be available to talk with you about whether you would like to see a photograph of your baby, have a memento such as a lock of hair, or see or hold your baby. A baby may have died during late pregnancy (called intrauterine death). Or, a baby may have died during labour or birth (called intrapartum death). What happens after a baby is stillborn? Your midwife or doctor should ask you if you would like to see, touch or hold your baby. This is a highly individual decision. Many parents decide to see and hold their baby, and most find it of help and comfort to do so, but, equally, some may not. It's up to you to decide what to do, and you should be given time and space to make up your mind. Your instincts may be to see and cuddle your baby, but worries about what he or she may look like could hold you back. To help you to decide what is right for you, your midwife or doctor can describe your baby to you. Maybe one partner could look first, or you and your partner could look at a photograph of your baby. Some people know instinctively that they don't want to see their baby, while others choose to or not to for religious or cultural reasons. After a stillbirth, many parents want to see and hold their baby. It's entirely up to you whether you wish to do so. You'll be given some quiet time with your baby if this is what you want. The important thing is to take time over your decision, and be sure about how and when you want to say goodbye to your baby. Whatever you decide about the post mortem, your views and wishes should be respected. If you go ahead, your doctor should tell you when the results are likely to be available. Some of the possible causes of stillbirth include the following. Congenital abnormalities — such as a genetic condition or heart condition. A medical condition in the mother — such as diabetes, high blood pressure in pregnancy or pre-eclampsia. Problems that can cause bleeding during pregnancy— such as placental abruption or placenta praevia. Complications during birth. Certain infections. Problems with the umbilical cord or placenta. Major injury or trauma to the mother's abdomen (the tummy area). Grieving the loss of a baby is a very traumatic experience. It's normal to feel a range of emotions, including shock, disbelief, deep sadness, anger and emptiness. There’s no right or wrong way to feel and it's okay for you to take as much time as you need. The care and support you receive during this time should consider your beliefs and practices. Your preferences and values should be respected. https://www.pregnancybirthbaby.org.au/what-is-a-stillbirth

*•.¸♡ 𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆. ♡¸.•* __________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚          ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

https://disability-memorial.org/

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS vii (By NeuroFabulous) "Chip," he began, his voice cracking. "I have something important to tell you." Chip leaned forward, his heart racing. "What is it, Dad?" Plankton's antennae twitched again, his eyes meeting his son's with a meld of love and apprehension. "I'm autistic," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Chip thought back to what his mom had told him about his father's unique way of being born, and how it had affected his brain. He remembered the awe in his mother's voice as she recounted the story of Plankton's birth, the way she'd spoken with a mix of wonder and sorrow. It was a lot to take in, but it made him feel closer to his father somehow. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his hand still hovering over his father's arm. "What's a... coffin birth?" Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye flicking to Karen's. She gave a tiny nod, understanding the need for honesty. "It's a rare event, Chip," Plankton began, his voice steadier now. "It's when a baby is born after their mother has... passed away." Chip's eyes searched his father's, trying to make sense of the words. "But how?" Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae flattening slightly. "The doctors had to be... quick," he said, his voice filled with awe. "They knew I was still alive, and they did everything they could to get me out." Chip's eyes grew even wider, his imagination running wild. "But Dad, how does that even work?" he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and horror. Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae twitching slightly. "It's... it's a difficult thing to explain, Chip," he said, his voice strained. "But basically, when a mom's body isn't alive anymore, but the baby's heart is still beating, the doctors do an emergency procedure to get the baby out." Chip's eyes were like saucers, his mind racing. "But how is that possible?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Plankton sighed, his antennas drooping slightly. "The doctors try to induce labor in mum's body after she... after she's gone," he said, his voice strained with the difficulty of the memory. "It was a delicate process, and not always successful. In my birth, there was a moment where my brain didn't get enough oxygen," he murmured. "When I was still inside mum." Chip's unsure how to react. "And how'd it give you autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched again, his gaze dropping to the bed. "Well, it's something that can happen when a baby's brain doesn't get enough oxygen during birth, Chip," he said, his voice quiet. "It's like a... hypoxic-ischemic event. It can lead to... complications. For me, it was autism." Chip nodded, his hand still hovering over his father's arm. "But how did your mum... die?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae drooped further, his gaze going distant. "It was an accident," he murmured. "Her heart... it just stopped. Bled out, the doctors said." Chip's hand hovered over his dad's arm, his mind racing with the implications. "But why?" Plankton took a moment, his antennae flicking slightly. "It's complicated, Chip. My mum... she had a rarity. Her heart was weak, and it couldn't handle the stress. It went undiagnosed back then." Chip's hand hovered still, his heart breaking for his dad. "But Dad, why didn't anyone know?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze going to the floor. "They did, eventually," he murmured. "But by then, it was too late. My mum was gone." Chip's eyes filled with sympathy, his hand resting on the bed. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his gaze meeting his son's. "It's okay, Chip. It's not something you could've known. I obviously didn't know her to well, but thank you." Karen was glad to see them connecting. "So Chip, you can ask us questions if you want." Chip looked from Karen to Plankton, his curiosity piqued. "Dad, is there anything you really hate that makes you have these... shutdowns?" Plankton's antennae twitched nervously, his eye darting between them. "Well, Chip, it's not always just one thing. It's mostly like... a buildup. Loud noises, too many people, bright lights," he listed off. "They can all make it harder for me to focus, to filter out the extra stuff my brain's taking in." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "What about touch?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Does it bother you?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze flicking to Karen's comforting hand. "It depends," he said slowly. "Some days, I crave it. Other days, it's too much." Chip nodded, his mind racing. "What about hugs?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Does it help you feel better?" Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye searching his son's face. "Sometimes," he said, his voice tight. "But not always." Chip nodded, his hand still hovering. "Can I... ca--" Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye widening. "No!" The suddenness of his reaction made Chip's hand jerk back, his eyes wide with shock. "I'm sorry, buddy," Plankton said, his voice softening as he saw the fear in his son's eyes. "It's just that, sometimes, hugs are too much. I need... space, like I told you. But only if I know they're coming, and only from people I trust. I'm still recovering right now." Chip's hand hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. "Can I... I don't know, maybe just pat you on the shoulder?" he asked, his voice hopeful. But Plankton shook his head. "No, Chip," he murmured. "I do not want my shoulders to be patted. That's too much." Chip nodded, his gaze on Plankton's. "How about a high five?" he asked, his hand still hovering. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his eye narrowing as he considered his son's question. "Maybe," he murmured. "But only if you're gentle." Chip nodded eagerly, his hand slowly descending towards his dad's hand. He hovered for a moment, his heart racing. Then, with all the gentleness he could muster, he tapped his father's hand with his fingertips. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, but his eye remained focused on Chip's. "Good job," he murmured, his voice a quiet praise. "That was... perfect."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 𝟥 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌. "𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. "𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅?" "𝖠 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖲𝗎𝗇, 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀..." "𝟤𝟦 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖨 𝗄𝗇-" 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. "𝖭𝗈 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇, 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝟤𝟥 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝟧𝟨 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝟦 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀!" 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗌. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌? "𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋. "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅?" 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗉. "𝖱𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖥𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖱𝗈𝗈𝖿. 𝖥𝗂𝗑." 𝖧𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖱𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋. 𝖥𝗂𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿. 𝖫𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖦𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗏𝗂𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅." 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗌. "𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍?" 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗒. "𝖡𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. "𝖡𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿. 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽. "𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇?" 𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. "𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿. "𝖶𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉. 𝖱𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗒. "𝖡𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆. "𝖸𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗇," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, "𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌? 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒; 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇? 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀.. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋. 𝖶𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾? 𝖠 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗆𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖺? 𝖭𝗈, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒'𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖼𝖼𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇?" 𝖧𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗉," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. "𝖥𝗅𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍. 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾? "𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍, 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗐. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁? 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼.. 𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖳𝖵 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾? 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆? "𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇, 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌? 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽𝗎𝗅𝗍.." 𝖧𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍. "𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗆," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖨𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝖽-𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋. "𝖠𝖼𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽. "𝖢𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗂𝗋𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗎𝖾, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗏𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖨𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈, 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋... 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗒𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋. "𝖢𝖺𝗇 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌," 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌𝖾, "𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗑 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗐, 𝖺𝖻𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. "𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖨𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾. "𝖨𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖾𝖽," 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽. "𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾. 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋. 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗎𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗒?" 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. "𝖶𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇?" 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍. "𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇," 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾, "𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗑 𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗅 𝖿𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗒𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗆 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋." 𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄. "𝖲𝗒𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖾𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇'𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗐𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿, 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾, 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍. "𝖴𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽. "𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. "𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗑 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?" 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾. "𝖶𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺..." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. "𝖥𝗂𝗑, 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖭𝗈 '𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖾' 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍, 𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖢𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗑 𝖽𝗒𝗌𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌." 𝖲𝗈 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆. "𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇; 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄. 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖽.." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽. "𝖡𝖾𝖽," 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌. "𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉." 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗆, 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗎𝗉, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋. "𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗋𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌. 𝖠𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌. 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁, 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉. "𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌. 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇. "𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇," 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝗏𝖺𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾. "𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒," 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌. "𝖢𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. "𝖨𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗄," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. "𝖶𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽. "𝖥𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾," 𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖼𝗁𝗈𝖾𝖽. "𝖮𝗎𝗍. 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. "𝖸𝖾𝗌. 𝖶𝖾'𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍. "𝖳𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌," 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒. "𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌." 𝖪𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇. "𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐," 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽. "𝖶𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐." 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.