The flower shop was closed a couple of hours ago, and Dooryard was cleaning his body in an attempt to clear his mind. There would be no fun at the festival for the pseudo-dragon. Immortals were concerned about assassinations, and that made him worried as heck too. He wanted to rest, if someone died tomorrow it wouldn’t be because Dooryard wasn’t alert enough.

It was up to the guard to ensure everyone else’s Festival was enjoyable even if he would not be able. Dooryard was a soldier, and he had no idea what the next day was going to bring him. None of them did.
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