Sheppard. His sword then came in for his scrutiny: he felt at, and appeared satisfied with its edge. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. ” She paused. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. " "Worth anything?" "I don't know.
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