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... Tequila Wolf.
Here, wind and snow intertwined, a thick fog blanketing the air, turning what should have been a clear sky into something oppressively dim.
The bridgehead was cluttered with piles of construction materials and machinery, flanked on both sides by towering streetlamps that cast a faint glow across the expanse of the bridge.
A throng of people, clad in thin, tattered clothes and shackled at the ankles with heavy iron balls, shuffled aimlessly across the bridge ...
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