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... thorn. She was curled tightly in the nest, clinging to fragments of half-dissolved slime like a stuffed animal from hell.
Every slight movement came with a disgusting wet bloob sound, like someone fist-fighting Jell-O in slow motion.
Finn glanced at Chestelle, who stared down at Lickthorn with an unsettling amount of joy.
"...Why are you smiling?" Finn asked.
"She looks cozy."
Finn turned back to the nightmare cuddle pile. "Lickthorn."
Nothing.
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