CrestFolder180IQ There's not much left of the "spirit world" to corrupt.
CrestFolder180IQ The Umbra is a wasteland, the Digital Web a skein of rotting data.
CrestFolder180IQ Meet me at 42°25'50.3"N 72°40'49.3"W at 10:30 PM.
Say what you want about Glass Walkers, they're precise. You use your map program to determine the exact location Ms. Clear means. You stop at Forbes Library to print out physical maps, then shift into your lupus form and lope out of town. The journey takes you north through pitch-black woods, as clouds hide the crescent moon. The night air is cold, and the earth smells like rotting vegetation. Translating GPS coordinates into nomad wolf vibes isn't easy, but when you Change back into your homid form and check your phone, you're within a quarter-mile of your target destination. It's so dark that you flick on your flashlight to walk the rest of the way.
The attack dogs are waiting for you.
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