A dream about a stone knife 1
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[…] A hooded figure detaches itself from the murmuring group. It is holding a stone knife, sharp as ravenglass […] The wind takes pity on you, and cuts through the snarl of language with a cold, sharp, 'North!'
The stormy clifftop, again, with your blindfolded companion. Surrounded by a chanting group; their message is unclear. The wind speaks.
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Unlocked with Having Recurring Dreams: What the Thunder Said 12