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... arm—more like "shelter-from-the-nightmare-wasteland-outside" warm.
The kind of warmth that made the shadows dance along the stone walls while the faint crackle of a small fire gave the place a heartbeat.
And in that heartbeat, chaos lived.
"I’m telling you, Rufus, you’re doing it wrong."
Alex gestured with a walnut, as if it were a diplomatic treaty. "You can’t just crack it in one go. You gotta roll it around in your hand first and get it nice and loose."
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