"Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. So am I.
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This video was uploaded to ccc999.shop on 06-06-2024 06:48:30
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