She hadn't cared how many people had called it mad; Sarah Jane Smith wanted to venture out and see what was out there and she was going to do so, clad in a pair of camouflage grey-pants and a white winter jacket, fur lining the sleeves and hood. The camera she had absconded with sat warmly within mittened hands, and more importantly, she had
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At least this time, she wasn't going to get arrested.
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Drawing up short, she crouched down behind a small copse and motioned Sarah Jane to join her. Up ahead, there was what looked like an elk, if elks were as big as an elephant and prehistoric.
"Nothing out here is right," she mumbled, mostly to herself.
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