... I've had worse.
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Looking forward to a warm bed and a warm meal after a long day on the road, neither Zahraji nor her mate Kharjo are impressed with the watered-down ale and stale bread, nevermind the stone beds.
Still, even in their dubious appraisal of their dinner they share a moment of affection as Kharjo leans on the hilt of Zahraji's glass scimitar.
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