The Garren had stark-white, emotionless faces. There
wasn’t even a glimmer of surprise at the sudden appearance
of Olie and the children on the beach. Long, dark
hair hung over their pasty, withered faces, and everything
about them appeared cold and empty. It was like looking
at a moving shell of flesh: there was substance outside
but nothing present inside. They were just puppets bent
on completing a task, and that task was to destroy the
Keepers. The icy-gray eyes of the Garren looked through
them as they continued to walk toward the Keepers, not
even pausing at their arrival in the path of attack.
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