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“Any one I want?” Éomer asked, as if afraid Théodred would take back his promise. “Any one you want.” After a moment, Théodred realized that his young cousin wasn’t watching the wiggling pile of little dogs; he was watching one puppy, a speckled fellow, sitting alone in the corner of the pen. “Him,” Éomer said, pointing. “The little one.” His expression was sympathetic. “ He looks like he wants a friend.” |
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