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Weekly Contest #348
Tears streaked down his cheeks as his eyes smarted from the smoke. He watched his father seated in front of the ceremonial fire casting into it a mixture of wood, herbs and spices with his raised hands. Stern faced men with dirty matted hair and ash all over their bodies chanted verses in throaty growls. He had been scared of them once, of their frenzied actions as the rituals progressed, of their eyes that turned blood red and a gaze that unsettled him deep inside. But he had gotten used to them now…they came to the estate once a year aroun...
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