The Pale Exile
The mist that clung to the valley of Oakhaven was not merely a weather phenomenon, but a living, breathing entity, a pale and insubstantial ghost that swallowed the stone walls of the old manor and erased the boundary between the earth and the sky, a suffocating embrace that seemed to whisper secrets to those who stood still long enough to listen, for it was said that the fog did not come from...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima