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... he saplings and braided ribbons like living breath. Jude awoke to the hush, heart drumming with something not quite fear, anticipation, perhaps. The watchers pulsed, faint blue halos drifting at tree-line and above the ring stones near the fig-glyph. His gaze fell onto Laurel, nestled between Grace and Sophie, eyelashes fluttered, breaths even. He rose quietly to spare her dreams, moving barefoot across dew-soft grass. The air smelled of earth and moss and promise. He knelt beside the central st ...
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