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... she could react, an icy-cold, p.r.i.c.kling sensation swiftly swathed her wrist—precisely, the wrist that seated the hand in possession of the small wooden box.
Unexpectedly, upon lowering her head, she discovered a length of ivy-vine, its body completely overspread with cl.u.s.ters of sharp fangs that aimed for her flesh. The densely-packed fangs broke through her skin and sunk deeply into her wrist, promptly drawing out a torrent of scarlet blood. This seemed to excite the vines of ...
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