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... eeloaders.
Dragging herself back through the brush, she pocketed the sulking sparrow without ceremony. But the snake?
Oh no. Not a chance in hell.
She wasn’t one of those people—the kind who warmed up venomous reptiles in their shirt like it was a sweet fairytale bonding moment. What if the thing bit her in her sleep? What was she supposed to do then? Die dramatically under a tree? Absolutely not.
So she did the logical thing.
Wrapped it. Bound it tighter ...
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