Unfurling Sunrise. The sky petal-pink, sun floating upward, spreading crisp light across the forest floor. Rove yawns, tilting his head to the impending brightness. We must find somewhere to sleep, and soon. I’ll dry out in daylight. The trees thin out, then, giving way to open space, a field. Hundreds of green plants, furled, like Rove’s shell tucked …
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