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She smiles slightly, her eyes dimming to a soft silver glow, and she re-adjusts her sword, and picks up her staff. "Lead on, then...", she says half amused, and as she starts walking, the staff makes tiny tinkling bell sounds each time it hits the ground, leaves scattering behind her, covering her tracks..
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May the moon always shine upon your face, and your imagination soar to the heavens.... Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh.
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