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The Vultures drew their steel. The Sinners held their breath.

The Monk didn't blink. She hadn't come to the desert to find God; she had come to do the work God was too tired to finish. Should we continue this as a scene, or The Vultures drew their steel

"The ground is too dry for graves," the Monk said, her voice like grinding stones. "And I’ve no interest in burying the living. But I do have enough water for seven, and a spade for three." " the Monk said