Sunday, January 1, 2017

100 Words a Day 986

The strange mists dissipated and Gawan found himself in an unfamiliar forest, feet on an unknown path that twisted through the sickly pines. He stopped, confused. He looked back and forth with his eyes and listened with his ears, straining with both to detect movement in dim dark. He saw nothing and all he heard was the wicked whispering of the wind, threading through the susurrating pines. It tickled the back of his neck sending a chill down his spine and into his gut. The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting a cascade of shadows across the still forest.

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