the moon, th’ inconstant moon,That monthly changes in her circled orb,Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. As he sat down on his side of it, his smile turned to a sour little grimace. Seven now. She wasn’t sure she would want the responsibility of holding onto it, either.
At last his father spoke. Thorin covered her other hand. ”Rusher was walking along a path through the seacliff woods. She examined it carefully, then let it drop with a sigh more relieved than rueful.
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