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... the Murk Wolf that were closing in.
Though the Gromp vanished in a puff of dispersed magic, Vidaldus's condition had visibly worsened, his face was turning a sickly shade of purple. He collapsed to the sand, coughing violently as he desperately tried to use his animated hair to absorb the venom coiled around his throat.
He looked like a wreck. His beloved guitar was nearly bitten in half, and four deep punctures on his shoulders oozed fresh blood.
A dull ache throbbed in ...
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