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Chapter Three Hundred And Ninety Seven – 397
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... the stove warm him. The water had cooled him down enough that his overheating body had grown comfortable, but the howling wind of the chasm just outside the dilapidated hut had turned that chill into something more bone-deep. He nursed a mug of mulled wine, holding it close, and watched the owner of the hut over the chipped rim.
The Yttin, named Naos, was bustling about the hovel. He cleaned fastidiously, wiping surfaces and sweeping out stray bits of stone and dirt Felix had tracked in ...
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