The Pale Banner
The frost lay thick and unbroken on the corrugated iron of the supply depot, a white silence that seemed to swallow the low hum of the generator. Elias Thorne stood by the loading dock, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his wool coat, watching the breath of the men as they moved the crates of rations. The air was sharp, carrying the metallic scent of coal smoke and the underlying,...
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