The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk.
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This video was uploaded to live-sport.live on 13-07-2024 19:56:40
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