After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. "Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. So long as they're about, I'll always be rewriting them and wasting my time. Now I have done something for which you might be pardoned if you did kill me.
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This video was uploaded to theblogfullofgames.com on 19-09-2024 14:15:17
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