There is a story Other
It was narrated by someone passing by Sunset, who said: At the edge of the valley I left my shadow stretched out as long as this night
Look for a pickaxe and a white shroud in day size
There is a story Other
It was narrated by someone passing by Sunset, who said: At the edge of the valley I left my shadow stretched out as long as this night
Look for a pickaxe and a white shroud in day size
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