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... the Free Bird Mercenaries–the ones not imprisoned–were used to waiting. Their patience on the brink of a mission like this was unmatched. They went through their own preparatory rituals.
Hugo caressed his bow and whispered soothing words. Mole sharpened his daggers. Lily relaxed against a nearby tree with her eyes closed and hands clasped over her stomach like a dead man.
Squawks flipped a coin or rolled a die repeatedly, depending on the day and mood. Dima looked at his reflecti ...
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