The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-18 17:24:49 -

The morning fog lay thick on the moor, a gray wool blanket suffocating the heather. Thomas Ashworth stood at the edge of the cliff, his boots sinking into the wet earth. He was a man of stone and silence, a senior warden for the Royal Natural Reserve. His face was a map of wind-burns and old scars, but his eyes held a new, brittle light. He was hunting. Not for poachers, but for the source of...

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