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- It was a finely woven cloak — soft, light, and warm. Its color seemed to change as it moved so that it was hard to tell if it was brown, green, or grey. Somewhere between all three, Lief decided at last. Like river-water in autumn.
- “This, too, will care for you, wherever you may go,” his mother whispered, pressing the cloak into his hands and kissing him. “The fabric is — special. I used every art I knew in its making, and wove much love and many memories into it, as well as strength and warmth.” (S1B1 - The Forests of Silence, p.38)
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