 Bakhig's Journal, Page 3 |
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| ID | 717 | ||
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Bakhig's Journal, Page 3
by Bakhig
Bakhig is finally home. Years of wandering, over. Pets scuttle around me. The poison that drips from their fangs smells as fresh-baked bread to this one.
It took me weeks to earn their trust. So many bites, so much poison in my veins. But, now, they know me.
Now, they love me.