The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-20 18:11:39 -

The wind in the high fens did not blow so much as it exhaled, a long, cold sigh that carried the scent of peat and old rain. I stood at the edge of the marsh, my boots sinking into the spongy earth, watching the grey sky press down upon the landscape. The village of Ashworth lay behind me, a cluster of stone cottages huddled together against the chill, their chimneys puffing thin wisps of smoke...

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