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... ually that hard, Tybalt, we really need to have a sit-down about your bake times," Red called out, her voice straining as she parried a stone fist with the flat of her daggers. The sound was a sharp clack, like two billiard balls hitting at high speed.
Tybalt didn’t answer. He was too busy scrambling backward, his heavy rolling pin clutched in both hands like a club. He looked at the shattered obsidian knee of the warrior he’d just crippled. "It was an instinctive reaction! I saw somethi ...
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