#@#@@^†»^¨ ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
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@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
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@#@@^†»^¨¨ THERE'S A MAIDEN ON THE HILL. ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ GREY CERAMICS, OVERSHOWERED WITH MOSS, ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ STRETCHING TOWARD THE HORIZON. ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ SHE MOVES HER FEET. ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ THE PATCH IS WET. ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ AN ISLAND IN THE CLOUDS, ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ SHE'S COZY AND STRONG ON THE CREST ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ WITH HER SHEEP. ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ AND NOONE ELSE IS AROUND. ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ AS HER FEET MOVE HER HAZILY FORWARD SHE ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ LOOKS AROUND, AND SPOTS ANOTHER ISLAND ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ ON THE SEA OF FOAM. ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ STOPS MID-STRIDE. SHE FROWNS. ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
#@#@@^†»^¨ ¨^»†^@@#@#
@#@@^†»^¨¨ ¨¨^»†^@@#@
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