marycatelli: (Default)
marycatelli ([personal profile] marycatelli) wrote 2020-08-17 03:53 am (UTC)

The steps had been carved into the rock, not built of hewn stone. The air felt damp and cold. They descended in silence.
Which, Autumn supposed, was only prudence. Stone made their footsteps echo. Their words would betray more, and they had seen nothing to make them change their plans.

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