Marshal Lee flew through the early afternoon air, umbrella in hand and his bag and axe âm bass, tiếng bass, bass slung over his shoulder. He never looked up, down hoặc sideways. He kept his eyes forward, his face without a single trace of emotion on his face. "Did I pass it?" Marshal thought. "I should have seen it bởi now…" As if bởi cue, a mass of land came in through the clearing. He slowed down as he came closer to the mass and landed once he saw a sign. The sign was old and withered with age. Marshal traced the surface and was able to interpret the writing. "Star Hill." He barely whispered. "I finally made it."...
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