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She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity. ā€ She replied vaguely. His last actions were futile. Oh, you must believe me. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. ā€œIā€™d sooner condemn you to Hell.

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