Catherine glanced at the filth-ridden boy who wore the same scent as she. It was the scent of pure desperation mixed with a bit of dirt...

The whooshing leaves feel nice, like a trance at first, but inside, my bones rattle something terrible. Perhaps darkness has a role to...

Long and white was his hair, like the mountains of the north, with a towering beard that had aged with time. Shrouded was his cloak, and...