Book had known about the chapel for a while, and hadn't quite gotten over to it just yet. He was a nomadic shepherd, a man who tended to a flock that lived in the black. He went from the abbey to the black, and his flock, as it were, was a ragtag group of criminals that held to their own rules and morals. Where these eight people, alone in the
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She'd almost turned and headed back the way she came when she saw who was standing in front of it, but after only a fraction of a second's hesitation continued the way she was going. Now was as good a time as any to find out if they really practiced what they preached. "Shepherd," she greeted, her expression neutral.
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She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "How about you, shepherd? Finding enough flock to tend to here?"
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"Sure, meet a few folk, make a few friends, only to have them up and disappear on you," she said, with a slightly bitter laugh. She'd learned her lesson, though. No more attachments. She'd focus on what she did best.
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