Inigo sat, head in hands and tapping his feet against the chair to the rhythm of Domingo's hammer against the red-hot metal. Whenever Domingo put the sword into the bucket of water to cool it off, Inigo loved to inhale deeply the scent that would immerge, because all too quickly it would evaporate into the air. Domingo looked over at Inigo's
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Comments 1
What beautiful and astute advice your father gives,Señor Montoya. I'faith, I could not agree more. :)
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