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Esimerkit

• [...] said an older woman, bending over her, "hush, little fishling! Ichuk, my son, is dead, but we will get thee another man."
• My fingers moved subtly, and now Fiacha was a tiny raven no bigger than a bee, a little speck of darkness that spun out of the fixing charm as easily as a fishling escapes the herring net, [...]