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Post by Jean-François de Morangias on Aug 13, 2008 14:37:55 GMT -5
*Jean-François awoke with a start. Something was wrong, he felt it in his gut, his instincts sharp. He jumped from bed and covered himself, grabbing his pistol and searching the house. A rage filled him, something half-forgotten, but all too easily remembered. She was gone. He dressed and summoned the beast. There would be a hunt tonight.*
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