The Pale Exile

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2026-08-17 13:34:48 -

The Pale Exile

The rain fell on the ridge like a grey shroud. It had been falling for three days. "Is it still there?" asked Silas. Thomas did not look up. He wiped his hands on his trousers. The mud was black. It stained his cuffs. He nodded once. "Yes." Silas stepped closer. He held his rifle loosely. His face was pale. The wind whipped his coat. He looked at Thomas. He looked at the pack at Thomas’s feet....

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