”The untasted cocktail fell from his hand, spilling sticky and cold across his bare feet. She was feeling faint. Robb lifted the heavy axe with both hands. Simon listened to the wind and felt it push against him, and he took pleasure from his heart hammering away inside a chest that would never feel ancient.
Timmel Duchamp, Ian R. I'm not Hot Pie here. Down in the deepestdungeons, where it's nice and damp. They’d brought it back—charred, twisted, frozen in mid-transformation—and did not seem to know what it was.
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