God of Hunger chapter 19-25
His liquid silver hair flows around his body like a typhoon, his hardy black jacket flutters like batwings in the night, the pages of his books thunder a warlike chant as page upon page flashes by.
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Suddenly the batwing doors of the saloon opened up and seven scar stood in the doorway glaring back at her with what appeared to be a broken and mangled arm and wielding the stabilizer from the wrecked speeder bike he was still attached to in his other hand
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His liquid silver hair flows around his body like a typhoon, his hardy black jacket flutters like batwings in the night, the pages of his books thunder a warlike chant as page upon page flashes by.
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Like a painter he lashes his pens, his liquidly silver hair flows around his body like a typhoon, his hardy black jacket flutters like batwings in the night, the pages of his books thunder a warlike chant as