The art of walking the streets, if it was ever known, is a lost art in America.
He held the porte-épée in his hand. The metalled silk seemed to trickle between his fingers, like cool golden rain.
Yet his passion for her had grown fiercer than ever, and he swore to himself that he would win her back from her phantasies.
Include some cycling lands too and the threat of mana flood pretty much vanishes.
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