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He had settled into the gray funk deeper and still deeper until finally, in the dark, he had gone up on the ridge and taken the hatchet and tried to end it by cutting himself. (Paulsen 116)
"He had done food" (Paulsen 119)
"The corrosive spray that hit his face Seared into his lungs and eyes" (Paulsen 123)
"Above the door to the shelter, up the rock face, about ten feet was a small ledge that could make a natural storage place..." (Paulsen 126)
Kind of like a pear, he had thought, with a point on one end and a fat little body; a flying pear. (Paulsen 132)
The bird had sat and he had lunged and the two points took the bird back down into the ground and killed it almost instantly—it had fluttered a bit— and Brian had grabbed it and held it in both hands until he was sure it was dead. (Paulsen 134)
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