Practice Typing
White Fang - London, Jack ยท 72 words
The hair bristled upon the grey cubs back, but it bristled silently. How was he to know that this thing that sniffed was a thing at which to bristle. It was not born of any knowledge of his, yet it was the visible expression of the fear that was in him, and for which, in his own life, there was no accounting. But fear was accompanied by another instinct that of concealment.
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