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Johan dreamt of home. Of the canyon walls the size of mountains, the washed out rainbow colour dividing the hundreds of rock layers, each an indication of times long lost as the years went by.

He dreamt of the rolling dunes and hanging petrified forests, he dreamt of the people, hardy but always smiling. And he dreamt of losing them.

It was a repeating nightmare, of beauty turning to tragedy. Of the shadows of winged creatures darkening the ground and the eart ...

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