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Pocketful of Tame Wishes
fantasyEveryone5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
Wren followed cold footprints through the dew to the edge of the woods. Marta stood there talking to shadows, pale shapes the wish had made for company. They circled her, whispering, drawing her deeper into the trees. Wren called her name, but Marta didn't turn.
Wren hesitated too long at the tree line. The shadows wrapped around Marta and pulled her into the deep woods, and the path closed behind them like a curtain. The jar went dark in Wren's hand. She had been too slow, and one name was lost for good.
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