The Faded Root
The road into the valley was not so much a path as a suggestion of movement, a narrow ribbon of packed earth that wound through the grey mist like a vein of lead in the skin of the earth. I walked it with a heavy step, my boots caked in the cold, wet mud of the lowlands, carrying a wooden crate that rattled with the dull, rhythmic thud of glass against wood. Inside the crate, wrapped in layers...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior