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Ooki saw a painting of a forest.

A space had been opened in the center of the art room. The easel standing there held a large canvas giving off the scent of turpentine. The canvas contained the forest painting.

“Have you repainted this a whole bunch of times?” asked Ooki.

Brunhild turned around next to the sink at the window of the art room.

While washing the brushes she said, “I have altered parts and painted over areas countless times. But I am not ‘ ...

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