In some things, in many things, you must trust to your elders, to those who know more of life than you do. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. But this was important. Wood. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. It was the same Bios whose nature and drift and ways and methods and aspects engaged them all. Never was there another girl like this one.
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