I can't carry this no more.
#3
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indent Fatin had filled in some of the blanks. Most of them he had found left open, for his own exploration. Crossing over a pile of downed twigs, he sneezed and shook his head. It was then that her scent came with the cold wind, that of his sister. Turning on his toes, he took off at a trot, moving quickly. When he did spot the figure, shifted and heading home, the boy grinned mischievously and took a moment to assume the same form.

indent At his height, Tristan was an impressive figure. Pushing his hair out of his face as the wind fought it back, he moved quickly and crept up behind her. Quietly, he lifted his hands and put them over her face. “Guess who?” He chuckled, ignoring a blast of cold wind.



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