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... wice, feeling a chill seep into his bones.
It was morning, he saw.
A low, silver fog clung to the air, and the sky was blue and grey.
He could hear the brittle creak of a loose window swinging somewhere down the lane, and a lone crow calling high above. A solitary sound.
Sitting there, on the rough-hewn planks of his front porch, head resting on the wall, Percival realized he must have succumbed to exhaustion last night.
He had been meditating, trying as m ...
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