“It’s not. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. ” He shook her hands off almost roughly.
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