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| "As the reddening sun sunk below the thunderheads clumped at the horizon, the centaurs hurried home. Yeraleu shuddered at an inexplicable chill and glanced over her shoulder. Jurode placed a calloused hand on her arm, urging her along. She balked, stomping a hoof. Was that the glint of eyes in the gathering murk? Did she hear the swish-thud of heavy paws as some beast broke from the underbrush? Not for the first time, Yeraleu wished her night vision was more acute." |