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Nowadays the trees served as an aesthetic delight, Solace's
trademark. People came from many miles away simply to
gaze on the city of vallenwood.
The day was cool but not cold, and warming sunshine cut
through the thick trees in slanted white lines. The greengro-
cer's shop rose above the very center of the eastern edge of
the town square, a short distance away. Flint set out for the
nearest spiral stair leading to the bridgewalks overhead. By
the time his short legs had pumped him to the top of the cir-
cling thirty-foot wooden ramp, his brow had broken out in
beads of sweat. Flint plucked at the furry edges of his vest
and wished he hadn't dressed so warmly; he slipped his arms
from it and draped the leather and wool garment over one
shoulder. He saw the grocer's, at the end of a long straighta-
way.
For the first time in quite a while, Flint truly noticed his
surroundings. The village of Solace was washed in vivid fall
colors. But unlike the maples or oaks of other areas, each
large vallenwood leaf turned red, green, and gold in perfect,
alternating angled stripes of about an inch wide. So instead
of seeing blazing clumps of solid color, the landscape was a
multicolored jumble
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