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... ck shadows, the only light a sliver of moon threading through the canopy.
Aster sat on the damp ground, her body still trembling from the ordeal, her soaked braid clinging to her back as she forced her breath to steady.
Footsteps. Light, quick, rustling through the underbrush.
The boy reappeared, darting between the trees, a battered canvas bag slung over his shoulder. His silhouette was small but swift, moving with the sure-footedness of someone who knew these woods well ...
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