The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 16:49:50 -

The Distant Wound

The wind howled through the jagged teeth of the basalt cliffs. It was a cold that bit through wool and skin. Elias stood still. His boots were caked in red mud. The mud was old. The mud was new. He held his rifle. The wood was slick with sweat. His breath misted in the gray air. "Stop," said the voice behind him. It was not a threat. It was a command. Elias did not turn. He knew the voice. It...

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