Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. Kneebone he's not here. He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. Let me recommend a glass of wine. I want to stand between you and all the force and vileness of the world. The path he had selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling. Vorsack echoed him.
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