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... on sun, casting the glade in a dappled, shifting twilight. Ancient trees, their gnarled roots snaking across the forest floor like slumbering serpents, held the air still and heavy with the scent of damp earth and verdant growth. A faint, sweet perfume of unseen blossoms drifted on the motionless air, a stark contrast to the primal urge that thrummed between them.
"Ready to get dirty, my love?" Aukin’s voice, a low rumble, barely disturbed the quiet. His blue eyes, usually pools of seren ...
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