The Distant Joke

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2026-08-22 18:28:15 -

The Distant Joke

The fog did not merely obscure the path; it actively repelled it, a thick, grey wall of dampness that pressed against Elara’s chest like a living thing refusing to let her pass. She was thirty-two, a wanderer by necessity rather than choice, and her boots sank into the peat of the moor with a wet, sucking sound that seemed to echo in her own hollow bones. She carried a leather satchel, heavy...

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