"Those tears will do you good. I love your very breath. These things illuminated her situation extremely. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. She screamed as she saw that their throats had been ripped out and their dead eyes bulged with horror as their heads lolled from mere strings of sinew and flesh. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. Not fit to be dust on your boots.
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