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- The transformation had taken place swiftly, Drew’s body now more than accustomed to the change. He rose with the net still wrapped about his dark torso, snarling at the man and roaring in his face. Spittle hit Galtus as he slashed out with his blades, the swords tearing through net and fur as they cut into the Werewolf’s flesh. The net fell away like a tattered cloak as Drew shook it loose, ignoring the fresh wounds.
- B3 P2 C3
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