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Nothing, of course, because snakes this size can't talk. That's what Eloise told you, they can't talk. Henry thought it was weird you found a talking snake in your attic, especially a Richard-sized one... hum. You loop the obliging snake around your shoulders and sit back down. Henry also sent you a... yeah! A letter! You can read that lying down, can't you?
It hurts nearly as much to lie down as it does to stand up, but it's all okay, because it'll go away soon. Hopefully that general store guy sold you the right pills. He would, right? Because he's your secret fan? Yeah, probably. Also, he wouldn't want to get in trouble for poisoning a beloved young lady. Anyways. The snake's sprawled over your shoulder now, which is cute of it. It's honestly pretty cute overall when there's no Richard in it yelling at you, though it does stir your stomach up to look at its blank expression. You hope Richard feels better soon. (It could also be the hangover stirring your stomach up. Or the pills.)
Henry's letter, Henry's letter... is in your pocket, safe and sound. You squint at the wax seal, then break it and slide the letter out. He's written it in fancy pen. Your Aunt Ruby would approve.
"Hi kiddo,
I hope you're doing well, whenever and wherever this finds you. I hope you didn't give Garvin too much grief for delivering this.
You asked me for a way to raise a giant worm from the dead. I would first like to reiterate that this is neither something typically done, nor something Old Earthquaker would give its stamp of approval to, so you're wading upstream on this one. Not impossible, but nothing reliable. Please don't get angry if your attempts fail.
That being said, I think my initial gut response to this conundrum still holds. You can't actually "resurrect" something like this, not without divine interference, but I think you have good odds of forcing your old worm's "self" (do worms have selves?) onto a new worm, which you can get wherever you found the first worm, I assume. I regret to say I do not know very much about worms. Regardless, let's assume you've located another worm, or at least something sufficiently worm-like. I think this would work best if you were able to physicalize your memories of the first worm in some way— are you wondering how? It really depends. On the low end, you might be able to meditate upon a significant object until it took on meaning. On the high end, I believe some native creatures engage in this practice— aren't there those oysters with memory pearls? Do you know what I'm talking about? Snakes eat memories too, of course, though they're rather more reticent about spitting them out. You could ask your "snake friend" about it, if you trust him enough to help. I would be wary of him.
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