There was something sad about the whole thing. Perith had come expecting a fight and what she found was a wasteland. The village had been gone for years, rough undergrowth sprouted from ruined foundations and crumbling walls. Hangman’s ivy flashed sickly grey leaves in the shade of shattered tombstones. Her family had been avenged without her.
My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!