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... cially began, bowls of thick broth passed from hand to hand.
The music was no more than the Velmourns themselves—rough voices raised in old songs that had been sung for generations. Some clapped along, others stomped their boots on the stone in rhythm. The beat was uneven, but strong enough to make the air feel alive.
And then, people began to dance.
It started with the younger soldiers, stamping their feet and spinning each other clumsily. Soon the elders joined in, thei ...
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