The Distant Threshold
The copper basin sat in the center of the kitchen table, its surface darkened by age and the slow, steady accumulation of salt. Elias Thorne stood before it, his hands resting on the edge of the wood, feeling the grain under his palms. He was a man of quiet habits and precise movements, a silversmith by trade, though in this household, his hands served a different purpose. The air in the room...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen