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Flux Schnell
Hyndla rode through the mist-laden valleys, her black steed silent as the grave. She carried the wisdom of ages, whispering lost bloodlines to wandering souls. Mortals feared and sought her alike, for she knew the fate woven into every name. Beneath her crown, her eyes gleamed with moonlight, her voice an echo of the gods. As she galloped into the night, the winds curled in reverence, for she was a keeper of truths, one who rode beyond time itself.
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