PREVIEW
... a simple tune, sometimes whistling as her foot tapped the hard white wood. Solara had crafted the house well, leaving a finely cut slab of hard stone for a stove above a gap meant for a fire to burn and cook any on top. Her pot boiled, the lid clattering and spinning about the tip as if dancing to her song. She raised the lid, her ears perking from the sudden rising sounds of bubbles breaking en masse. The pleasant, delectable scent of cheese and herbs forced her to swallow her saliva, her nose ...
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~ End this testimonial
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