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... lked through," Vuvi grumbles, stomping over a mossy root that dares block her path. "Three hours, not a single cursed mushroom or glowing vine in sight."
"You say that like it’s a bad thing," Sera mumbles as she halfheartedly flicks flint stones together near a ring of damp firewood. Sparks fizzle out before they hit the wood.
Ten feet behind her, Zora hums a little tune as he levitates a perfectly conjured obsidian firepit into place. Chairs grow out of the ground like obedient ...
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