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If there had been a way for him to escape the train leading to their demise, he had long missed the exit. There was no escape, there never had been.
Bet on losing dogs, Septimus Crain
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i.Where is sacrifice, his whispers were loud against his muffled cries, why does it hide so far in the deep of your stomach? If not forged by his own hands, no one else could have been responsible for raising such a bloodthirsty son. Where does your taste for hunger come from, his father asked while the answer had always been hiding for the sore eyes to see.
