But how are we going to carry that great beastie back?” “Leave that to me.” Tristan got on his knees and scooped Cavall up. With a grunt of exertion, he stood, holding the deerhound in his arms. Cavall licked his face to show his gratitude. Tristan snorted and turned his head away, but in the way people did when they pretended to not want a lick to the face.
-Audrey Mackaman
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