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She is a shadow in the forest, the birds are her eyes, a cloak to conceal her identity, arrows sharp and silent. Those who venture in die without realizing it. The only sound heard is the cacophony of arrows piercing flesh and bone, the final breath, and the startled awakening of the fool. Arrows never miss their target; only the fortunate survive to tell the tale of those unseen. Only fear and scars serve as proof.
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