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It was harsh, but sometimes the cruel things we said served the kindest purpose.
He was all I could see. All I could smell. He was cold morning air, and smoke, and fresh-turned earth, and a thousand other complex scents I didn’t even have names for.
“Feeling a little sore, human?” “Sore doesn’t come close,” I grumbled. “I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”
