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... ate lines. A house.
Every curve, every wall, every measurement was etched with precision. She could see where the kitchen would open into the living space, the position of the windows, the symmetry of the pillars, even the arrangement of furniture. It was exact—too exact.
Kaya’s lips parted, disbelief hardening into certainty.
This wasn’t the work of a villager or a beastman artisan. No. This was professional.
Her fingers skimmed the surface of the hide, tracing t ...
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