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Six Sentence Sunday #5

Spurs jangled behind her. Before her a low communal grunt, heavy with hope and longing, rumbled through the crowd. The miners swayed forward as one. The padded end of a staff tapped Willow’s back, prodding with careful but firm insistence. Despite the chill in the morning air,

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Six Sentence Sunday #3

“Of what value is the word of a skulking animal?”  The creature crawled from the shadows, crouching low on human hands and knees. Keeping its pelt-covered body close to the ground, it used the meager height of her sleeping pallet to shield it

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Posted in Six Sentence Sunday, Willowsbrook Series book 1