reminder: it’s mine, all mine, not yours, all mine! That said, here’s an excerpt:
Cloaking myself was a small matter. Shadows lent themselves to me, borrowed from the hardapple trees, from the clouds overhead that blocked the sun. Cloaking myself in my own shadow would have been easier yet, but I couldn’t wait for her to return to me. I stole away from Henny’s house, heading for the outskirts of the village. I trusted my feet while I used my eyes to be sure no one spotted me. My feet brought me to the midden, and what I found there made me wish longingly for blood-sickle brambles.
He stood in a stockade, head lowered and looking miserable. His shadow hung from his neck, caught in a witches bottle. His knees were bent as though his legs could not support his weight, and I winced, knowing how bruised his collarbones must…
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