The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 02:47:52 -

The Pale Exile

The hawk was gone. Miles stood at the edge of the moor. He waited. The wind bit through his coat. It was thin. Too thin for the cold. He did not care. He had walked for days. His boots were wet. The mud sucked at his heels. Each step cost him. He counted them. One. Two. Three. He looked for the bird. It was not there. The sky was gray. Flat. Endless. A single cloud hung low. It did not move. It...

0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews