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... ted along slowly, following Vim’s lead, and I felt an odd mix of familiarity and anxiousness.
We were crossing a rather large mountain pass, and the dense forest all around us did look a lot like the one I had been born in… but there was a strange difference. Some of the trees were white. Pure white. Their bark and trunks were the kind of white that I’d only seen on diseased trees, or during winter when they were stained by ice and snow… and not only was it not yet winter, these trees we ...
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