dustpelts heart raged through him as if he was about to panic. he tried to get free but his arms were tied tight to the chair. let me go please. he pulled his arms through the ropes. the ropes loosened and his arms were free. I'm free now I have to run. I don't think so. dustpelt ran fast and faster and faster until he was sprinting. they got him and beat him up and then threw him on the road outside his house.
whitestorm isn't that dustpelt, oh my God whitestorm that is our son stop the truck and open the back door.
dustpelts mother picked him up and put him in the back seat with his brother and sister.
go to the hospital now.
at the hospital.
as they were about to leave the room.
it's okay fire I'll be okay, mom in my backpack is my diary I want him to have it. dustpelt are you sure, you take your diary everywhere. I'm sure. ok but I'm getting you a new diary. ok. I love you dustpelt. I love you too fire, and you too sand.
okay now which pocket is it in because I know he know he keeps it hidden, found it. fire here you go. I can't believe I....hey give it back. noo. thanks daddy. your welcome.
dustpelt sweetie, wake up. mom. hey how you feeling. sore. you are gonna feel sore for a little bit but the condition you're arm was in was pretty bad. dustpelt looked at his arm. ow my arm.
Спасибо за чтение!
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