The puppet-maker set down his paintbrush and took in his work.
She was magnificent: A demon princess with fully articulated wings and a cold, haughty expression.
With so many intricate moving parts, she would require a master puppeteer to operate. He hoped she would find someone worthy of her.
The art of puppet theatre was dying. It was being replaced with larger-scale, more convenient entertainment.
He still kept to his traditional craft, refining the methods that his elders had passed down to him. Art was valuable for its own sake, even if the ability to manipulate his creations was lost.

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