AN: An euoplocephalus is a type of dinosaur.

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River is experiencing a paper shortage. She rustles her hands through the white leaves looking for blankness, but they come up inked and painted. Using both sides of the sheet is more environmentally sound, even though it's a bit perplexing when the colors bleed through.

She wants to ask Simon for more paper. A crisp, solid white block; toss it in the air and it's feathers, 8x11 snowfall. Things that change their form so easily have always been intriguing, girl to weapon, weapon to girl, and not a flicker in between.

But she hears Mal in his bunk late at night when Cap'n should be sleeping, calculating the cost of protein powder and engine parts. Seven cuts are applied to the take, one for the client, six for the brigands, seven times and seven times too many. (Seven was always orange, acidic, it cut her mouth and stung it). Cap'n always comes up short, not enough for this or that, his equations strewn all about the place. River wants more than ever to stick her fingers in his brainpan and tidy up the messy math, put it in pretty rows and columns. But fingers don't go in the brainpan, or they get burned, and this improbability makes her palms itch.

Not enough for apples, for cigars, for a plastic euoplocephalus, and certainly not enough for paper. So River will bide her time, and use the backs of sheets, and watch stormy skies bleed through into Russian dolls.

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