The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 03:14:14 -

The feast was loud. It was wet. It smelled of roasted pork and old beer. We ate with our hands. The hall was stone. The fire was high. I sat in the corner. My sword was by my knee. It was dull. It was heavy. I watched the door. I waited. Thomas sat across from me. He was my brother in arms. He was not my blood. He had a scar on his jaw. He chewed slowly. He looked at me. He smiled. It was a bad...

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