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... m held the tiny boy, his hand covering the back of his head. He could feel the warmth of the boy’s cheek against his skin, the soft breath tickling his chest. The shade swallowed them both, so even as the late afternoon sun beat down onto the Iyr, the pair were still cool.

“It is time to feed him,” Mulrot’s voice called from nearby.

Jarot exhaled. He did not wish to surrender the boy, but since it was time for feeding, he couldn’t refuse. “You must eat well, Larot.” Jarot brushed ...

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