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The Extee Three in the kitchen was untouched. Maybe the little fellow ran into something too big for him, even with his fine new weapon a hobthrush, or a bush-goblin, or another harpy. Or maybe he'd just gotten tired staying in one place, and had moved on. No; he'd liked it here. He'd had fun, and been happy. He shook his head sadly.
A female; she'd been mangled by something, maybe a bush-goblin. And get this Jack; they'd buried her prawn-stick with her." "They bury their dead! What was Kellogg doing, while you were opening the grave?" "Dithering around having ants.
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