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... iating whimper.

My sword jerked up at the last second, just barely catching the monster’s fangs before they sank into my throat. Its weight crashed into me, knocking me flat.

The stench hit me first, of rot, wet fur, and something sour and hot in my face as the creature growled through a dry throat. Its yellowed fangs were the size of my little fingers, and for a moment, staring at them inches from my skin, I was sure that was the end for me.

Then something blurred above ...

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