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... m away, she’d decided to put them to good use. Casual, careless, perfectly placed.
The bones were the key, though. They splinter easily, crack loudly when stepped on. If anyone was trying to sneak around, they’d either get pricked, cut, or make a noise. Maybe even all three. It wasn’t about catching them—it was about making sure she knew they were there.
And it seemed like someone had been there.
The signs were faint, but clear enough for someone like her: a broken thorn, ...
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