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Dead Valley of wares

You followed the stinging scent of blood towards decaying weeping willows, the cold air sending chills down your spine. You stumbled upon many wares hanging from the branches of said weeping willows, before the flapping wings behind you caught you off guard. "It's rude to stare. Mortal feline." A winged, patchy lion growled, stalking around you to walk toward the shadows. Then, he looked behind his shoulder. "Buy if any catches your eyes. I fancy those . . . currencies you mortal felines use around here."