Good Dog

Now, he knew what this place held. Monsters, magic leaves, things all meant to stop him and eat him and stop him and hurt him, and he wouldn’t be fooled again.

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The dog whimpered – an urgent sound – and pranced a few feet away, then back again, as if to say, this way, this way, we need to go this way!

“I know,” said the Boy, though he couldn’t remember how he knew. Blood tickled his skin, crimson on dark brown, and he took three deep breaths and finally stood.