Happy Life
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- I came for a dress, - she says to the cold-loving man. Her vacant gaze methodically, without interest, surveys the colorful variations until she stops at a black one. - This is what I want.
She takes it and holds it up against herself, showing it to the merchant.
- So? What do you think? - earrings also come into view. - What if with these?
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
