chris

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He sniffed a final time, wiped his wrist across his eyes, and gave a deep sigh. He groped with his gloved hand and clasped my hand, wrist-to-wrist, the warriors’ greeting. After a time, I felt his body go slack against mine. His grip on my wrist loosened. I kept mine firm.
chris
cudddddlin
Assassin's Fate (The Fitz and the Fool, #3)
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