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Through darkness and mire I drive him; through forest and briar he drives me. He is my prisoner - or I am his…. I can not remember. Can not remember warmth, sufficient food, ease. Can not remember when I did not hold him, drive him, drag him. Always in my ears are his moans and snufflings. Always in my nose is his smell – reeking of dark things and dark places. Always in my eyes are his eyes: they watch me and hunger for my throat.
In the dark hours I watch what the ring has made him… and I fear.
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