Stone Circle i have often dreamed of a far off place

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smoke listened, jaw working once as the boy’s worry spilled out. mother close to whelping. sent him home. kid came anyway. stubborn little thing.

he glanced between them— adela tense as a bowstring, searchlight all nerves and hope.

no one else come through here, he said, voice rough, simple. i’d know.

a beat.

his gaze settled on the boy, steady.

you sure this is the place? what 'else she say?

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