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Summary
The world around Albedo seemed to bite at his skin, snowflakes perching themselves upon his eyelashes as they weakly fluttered open, eyes flitting up to see the sky above him. It was snowing--the feeling of ice sharp against his palms and back of his neck. He had always known studying in a place like Dragonspine came with its risks, but how exactly had he ended up here? Most days were spent studying safely at his camp, temperature carefully controlled by a cozy fire; so how?
