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... ops, like the island sighing. Jude stood beneath the awning of the half-finished watchtower, arms crossed, eyes tracking the path that wound through the eastern woods. The structure creaked faintly behind him, still a skeleton of what it would become, just logs, rope, and rough carvings for now, but it stood tall enough to see the sea on a clear day. Today wasn’t one of those days.
The rain had a scent to it. Not the sharpness of storms or the metallic tinge of ozone. It smelled like dus ...
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