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Thhiro purred and gently prodded Jena with her forepaw, rubbing her fur against her face... it was wet, though the dampness was warm, and as the lion rubbed it against her lips and nose, Jena found herself wanting to sneeze. It was salty, though, it was definately not her own tears...
The lion purred again and let the girl rest for a few moments, before prodding her again, demanding that she got up.
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