The Pale Path
The carriage wheels groaned against the gravel, a sound like old bones shifting in a deep sleep, as Elara Vance descended from the high seat into the mist that clung to the town of Oakhaven like a shroud woven from the breath of the earth itself. She had traveled for three days, her body aching with the rhythm of the journey, her mind a quiet, still lake where the ripples of fear had long since...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare