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... wrought had a private conversation. Near-invisible tendrils of thought spilled off of their heads, connecting them together. Otaliya walked strong the whole time, but Tasar flinched and stared and glared, likely in time to silent words which Erick would never know. Eventually, though, some sort of understanding took place.
The telepathic lines broke.
Tasar breathed out, then she said, “My mother has been doing this for hundreds of years. She has an excellent approval record, thou ...
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