Dina Florence

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The child, frightened, tried to flee, but stumbled. Picking itself up, it limped on a few more steps, then stumbled again. John caught it up, lifted it – the weight of a cat, no more – turned it to face him, and the hat fell off.
Dina Florence
wait so this child was just running around feral for what a year? two? fucking hell
The Thirteenth Tale
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