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Weekly Contest #260
In the heart of the medieval forest, a small shack cast a shadow over the land, the air hung heavy with grey mist as Ernest fled for her life. She pressed on undeterred despite the branches clawing at her clothes and roots reaching for her feet. Her hair blowing from the cold wind blocking her vision. The sharp thrones nagged at her legs making a sharp cut on her leg. She started limping through the forest after she saw the monster walking softer each time. She picked up the torn-up piece of her short jeans an wrapped her leg slowly and also...
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