Ashes fell from the under side of Cypress's jaw, as if it were a burning log being hit instead skin and bone. Red and orange embers were exposed, burning the very hand that had hit it should it not be fast enough in its release. Her arms came to encircle the man who was far less than the picture of health. Fabric would be the first thing to go a-flame.
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Meetings in the Wastes [Closed] |
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