The Faded Quadrant

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-17 22:15:33 -

We were tearing through the dry brush of the moor, our boots sinking into the cold, damp earth as if the ground itself were trying to swallow us whole, the mist clinging to our shoulders like a wet shroud that refused to be shaken off. I was running, not because I was afraid of the wolves that had been circling us for the last three miles, but because I was afraid of what I might find waiting...

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