Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. "I'll see. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. “I may seem unduly— anxious. "Don't ask me about it now. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. "Oh!" she gasped. Life waits for us.
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