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... rathon through hell.
Her clothes hung in ragged strips, exposing scrapes that still wept blood. The fire she'd coaxed from splintered wood crackled between them, roasting three skewered fish she'd caught from the nearby water body.
The smell salty, smoky, almost comforting should have made her stomach growl. Instead, it just reminded her how long it'd been since she'd eaten anything that wasn't emergency rations.
The man sat two feet away, back straight, eyes fixed on the ...
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