“Where are you going?”
Cain turns, halfway through fastening the saddle on the horse; it’s Glitch in the doorway, one hand on the worn, wooden frame.
The stables have had a decent upkeep, under Azkadellia. Somehow, Cain expected it to be in ruins, or twisted, somehow - like so much of the O. Z. these days. But instead, the stalls are clean,
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