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She will not be so easy to classify, to stuff inside a box and affix with the perfect label. She will resist her taming, and climb all over sensibilities with the wicked mischief of her imagination. She will dream it all and make it happen with the strength of her will. She will fight and question and be a wild thing, dancing her way through silence. And if you ever cross her, she’ll fill your tea with fairy droppings and you’ll never be the wiser.

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