#54659 - He lifted her up, slow enough that she could stand herself and avoid losing her neck, soft and weak elven hands grasped at his wrists, desperately trying to break his grip on her. Shrugging his shoulders Draven hunched back over the sheep he had stolen from the village nights ago and resumed eating, clawed hands ripping at the flesh of the beast. Smoothly, she drew out the liquid silver and a small branch of holly.
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