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... mighty claws stretched out to the clear skies of that sunny morning. Lazily scratching his backside with his silver pincer, Balthazar strolled down to the water and washed away his grogginess before lifting the cover of a wicker basket half buried in the sand, so as to keep its contents fresh and shielded from the spoiling heat, and took out a slice of strawberry pie.

Holding the slice in his pincer, he casually walked along the shore, admiring his beautiful home.

The old tree ab ...

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