𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢.

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"applespring, creeksong," my mother said, her voice strained, "go back to camp. tell them--" she swallowed. "--foxes."

𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓼 ❦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲Where stories live. Discover now