She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. "I am, Charcoal. You cannot refuse me this. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket.
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