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“I’m suddenly filled with the memory of us sleeping too long under the old willow tree—and then not sleeping—the day before my brother adopted her as a ward. My gods, Astrid. What the bloody hell is she doing here? She’s not wearing her usual hunter gear of gambeson and tight leathers, and her bow and quiver aren’t perched on her back, but she’s exactly the same, with her ridiculously long golden braid." From: “Fire And Bone ”
