The Last Night in the Hollow The snow had stopped hours ago, but the air still carried its weight. She moved through it without hurry, her boots pressing neat prints into the unbroken white. The bundle was heavier than she remembered, the canvas stiff and cold against her gloved hands. She kept it close to her body, as if the wind might try to take it.
Bitte wählen Sie Ihr Anliegen aus.
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