The Pale Dance

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-21 14:51:52 -

The Pale Dance

The ice shattered under my boots. We were moving. The village of Oakhaven lay below, its roofs dark against the snow. I held the shard. It was cold. It cut my palm. I did not look down. I could not stop. My brother stood beside me. He breathed hard. His breath made clouds in the air. We were soldiers. Or we were ghosts. I could not tell which. The order had come from the High Court. The thief...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima