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... lowed his father through the forest.
His eyes gleamed with excitement. He had always loved hearing his father’s stories, especially the ones about his past glory.
But those tales were rare treats, told only when they were away from the hut.
Whenever his father tried to speak of them at home, Ian’s mother would give him that look, and the stories would end before they even began.
The man rested the axe on his shoulder, straightened his back, and said proudly,
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