Shannon Whitley

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Again the sisters speak in their intertwining way. “She climbed up and out onto the moor,” says Dreska. “Now her skin really is made of moor grass,” adds Magda. “Now her blood is made of moor rain.” “Now her voice is made of moor wind.” “Now the Near Witch is made of moor.” “And she is furious.”
The Near Witch
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