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... allowed him whole.

Sky wasn't present above, just branches knotted above like grasping fingers, blotting out the last whispers of light. The air thickened, his breathing felt like pulling a damp cloth through his lungs. Every scent was sharper now, pungent rot, thick moss, something acrid and old.

The farther he penetrated, the more the forest seemed to change, as if it were alive and quietly fighting him back.

Jonan moved low and crawled ahead, dodging through thick root ...

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