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... like melting gold. The air was warm, thick with the perfume of blooming vines curling along the tree trunks, and birds whispered lazy songs into the silence. The scent of firewood, freshly baked roots, and crushed berries drifted over the clearing where the women moved slowly, lingering in each other’s company, touch hanging between them like something sweet and unspoken. Rose stretched in front of the fire, her back arched deliberately, eyes half-lidded as she ran her fingers through her long, ...
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