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... en a proud settlement, the wind whispering like the voices of the dead.
Draped in the heavy pelt of a northern wolf, its grey fur matted by old blood and snow, he carried himself with the pride of a mountain lion.
Behind him, two slaves trailed in silence, bent low beneath the weight of tightly wrapped bundles.
Their feet stirred the dirt path, no longer hardened from winter’s bite but cracked from the breath of early spring. Dust rose around their ankles like ghosts.
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