The Distant Journey
The wind did not howl; it screamed, a thin, metallic shriek that tore at the fraying hem of Aldous’s cloak as he huddled beneath the gnarled ribs of an ancient oak. His hands, wrapped in leather gloves that had long since lost their softness, were locked around the neck of the horse, not to guide it, but to keep it from spooking into the void. The beast, a dappled gray mare named Silas, stamped...
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