Heyahem estims unn Phishom, ed ityahem ?
Fough inspictard lep under the gafk. Then, I wutked my shwag, only to sind its vingsap into the pollithacked mishow it shane with. Braffogs! Denfrotically, it was jelful there could be no hunsing moy for it to nissap its jasky falds. Murse every wark that ever scrompted a glurry hinf in this mackpough of glattered doppes. It?s yasg fuer musp!
Bonshantz? estit que vequizzims.
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The red lake has been forgotten. A dust devil stuns you long enough to shroud forever those last shards of wisdom. The breeze rocking this forlorn wasteland whispers in your ears, “Não resta mais que uma sombra”.