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... flat enough to walk three across, steep enough on either side to make slipping a regrettable life choice.

The snow here had been crushed down by wind and weight. Not fresh. Not soft. Old and bitter, the kind that didn’t melt, just got angrier.

Lindarion adjusted his grip on the sword at his hip. He hadn’t drawn it, but it helped to feel the weight there. Like something tethering him to the moment.

Ren walked slightly ahead, still looking around like she was sightseeing in ...

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