Your slide into the back of the local blacksmith's shop and there is your tiny home. A room hidden by years of age and with a wince of dissaproval, you drop your things next to Lucas's.
"You are so lazy!" She stared him in the face. It seemed by the look of his eyes and demeanor, he didn't care. He was sprawled, legs wide open, on what might of been a couch--if it was sewn together correctly.
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