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...
He nodded. We wait for the room to give it to us. We do not steal.
The Hound took the inner pass on the next down-breath alone, slow as a lesson. It eased along the two-person width, chain lying quiet under the scarf, ribs barely brushing air. Halfway through, a lantern deep in the Warden’s chest brightened half a thought. The Hound paused and watched the light die back. Its tail did not move. The cloth did not slip. It finished the arc and came back the same way, as if to tell them: ...
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