Her hands grabbed my shirt.
“Gather your energy.” I told her.
“Is this a race?” She asked.
“That certainly would be compulsive.” I said.
“Do you not burn to be first?” she said.
“I want to touch the stars” I replied.
“That is nonsense.” She said.
“Temper, Temper.” I admonished.
“Think about it,” she said, “The whole world, at the mercy of your sharp fangs…”
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