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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; margin-top: -50px; margin-left: ;][font=georgia][color=#afd4ea][size=18] Benedict[/fancypost]
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[font=georgia][color=#ffffff][size=10px][i]There's an east wind coming.
[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=#161616; width: 430px; max-height:; borderwidth=0px; margin-top: -5px; text-align: justify; color: #8ca9bb; font-size: 14px][font=times new roman]It was quite obvious that the little hatchling wasn't feeling at the top of his game. The black wyvern was draped over a rock like a scaly blanket, his body flattened so that he could absorb as much of the sun as he could because he felt like shit and needed to get warm as quick as he could. A low growl came from his throat as he turned his head slightly, closing his eyes. Fuckfuckfuck. Bloody hell.
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[align=center][url=http://warriorcatsrpg.com/index.php?action=profile;u=50682][color=white]© Swiftsong #benedict