A meadow, with dry, brittle grass all around. A black-haired doll. A red-haired one. A brown-haired one. A stuffed cat. A stuffed wolf. Although they're just toys, they scream as their seams come loose, as their stuffing spills, as felt and cloth flies.
For something's tearing them up. Ripping them to pieces that flutter in the air like paper.
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