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His frame was lean and wiry, half-crouched like a prowling wolf.
Horns jutted jagged from his skull, split where they had forced through bone. Beast-hide and crude bone armor clung to him, stitched together with sinew, while medals from his days as a soldier and fangs taken as trophies from his prey clinked together across his chest, mixed into one twisted history of his past. S
eralyth’s eyes flicked to those medals, recognition flashing before she quickly averted her gaze ...
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