[Something shatters again, louder, accompanied by another noise. The heavy slam of a fist meeting flesh. Whatever it's coming from isn't outside with her, and the sound is echoing off the tents, bouncing around the air - though the source may, in fact, be the wagon.
She won't get a chance to attend to the clown. He's gone without a trace, and she's left alone out in the yard.]
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She won't get a chance to attend to the clown. He's gone without a trace, and she's left alone out in the yard.]