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... ng, assessing way of hers. And then, she saw movement.
A small hut near the edge of the clearing. Not destroyed. Sticking out like a stubborn weed among the wreckage.
And then, from that hut, a tiny, familiar figure stepped out.
Ah. That same small sheep.
The first one who had met her when she arrived. The one who had hesitantly nudged her hand and then later demanded her attention like a spoiled child.
The one she’d ended up playing with over the past few ...
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