The Golden Compass
The room smelled of damp wool and the metallic tang of the coal fire, a scent that had seeped into the very grain of the wallpaper over the last three winters. I sat at the edge of the narrow bed, watching Elias shave, the razor glinting under the harsh gaslight, his movements precise and economical as a man who had learned to conserve every drop of energy for the war ahead. He was...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme