every time that you're not next to me
#4
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indent As his son fell through the air, Marlowe started, and left his shoulder. The bird preceded to curse in his own tongue, and settle nearby, beady black eyes on the pair. Ezekiel had grown quite a bit, and only a few inches below his father. Of course, as he was young, Gabriel had no doubt he would fill out in time. It would not surprise him if the boy did not get much taller—the wolf blood was sparse in the boy, as opposed to his father.

indent Smiling, Gabriel was soon assaulted by a warm body and laughed. “I missed you too,” he said, returning the hug. At the question, however, he released his son and regarded him quietly. Talitha hadn’t found her mother. He knew that meant something had happened. More then likely, Faolin was dead. But faith kept him believing she was still alive, still out there, somehow. “We don’t know where she is,” he admitted, confident that the boy was old enough to handle this. “Your sister went to look for her but came back alone.” He paused, and then smiled distantly. “You know, you showed up right after she did. Almost in the same spot.”





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