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A three-tailed white fox with fur as pure as snow, eyes as blue as the flawless sky, and a blue flame mark on its forehead woke up from its slumber.
It had no name. Perhaps it once did, but it couldn’t remember.
It didn’t even know why it was here or where it came from.
The surrounding beasts called it “little fox’, a name it didn’t like because it didn’t consider itself small.
But when it tried to argue, it realized it didn’t know its own age.
Pe ...
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