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... ied to talk to Sen. The cultivator indulged some questions, but mostly he just grunted noncommittal noises at the chatty wagon driver. The young man eventually figured out that Sen didn’t really want to chat about casual nothings. After that, he focused on driving the wagon and casting uncertain looks upward. The longer they stayed on the road, the more foreboding the sky grew. The clouds were heavy and black, casting the road into a kind of false dusk that seemed to bother Bigan more than Sen t ...

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