Scene 7
“It will take them a while to come into the wood. They do not like the dark and they certainly do not like the wood in the dark,” the rider said.
Still panting, I held out my hand. “Thank you,” I said, “thank you … ?” “Isobeau,” she said. She pulled her hood back and smiled, sticking out her own hand in return. Is it just so dark in this woods, or is her skin purple? Like eggplant-purple? “And you must ...
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