chaoticdryad

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“Mongo and I have a psychic bond, Carl. You’ve never been a mother, so you wouldn’t understand.” Mongo suddenly squealed and bucked, tossing Donut halfway across the room. She hissed, poofing out before landing on all fours atop Mordecai’s alchemy table, causing vials and supplies to scatter.
The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #3)
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