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... the trees, occasionally touching the branches and leaves, almost as if flying.
Sometimes a mutated bird from the sky would catch sight of him and swoop down only to become baffled as it approached within a hundred meters.
Then, it would spread its wings and soared back up into the sky, completely forgetting about its intention to kill the white insect-like creature.
In the morning, on the edge of a cliff at the depth of a tributary mountain range, Jane Aiken sat cross-leg ...
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