You understand me, Charcoal. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. Anticipating this, Wild avoided the shot by suddenly, ducking his head. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. I believe so because the 220 stories say his head was cut off by a tribe of witches and yet it still remained alive for many years after his decapitation.
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