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Davian

Orthodontistry–like seances, witch hunts, or cattle drives–is an activity of perceived necessity (and great popularity) for a limited span of time. Davian is well aware that his profession won’t persist forever; medical technology is advancing quickly enough that some more elegant and holistic method will tame the splay-toothed frontier he surveys. But today, oh, today he is a cowboy, wrangling the wild overbite with lassos of gleaming wire.

“Yeehaw!” murmurs Davian, absorbed in his work.

“Ngh?” says his patient, lips peeled back and jaw locked by a device originally described in Malleus Maleficarum.

“Nothing, little dogie,” Davian says.

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