Lands and Men
By Jane Gooding
In the lands to the north, men ride wolves, great snowy-coated beasts whose howls are as cold as the night and the glaciers from which that nation carves its fortresses.
It is no place for the men of the cinnamon sands of the southern lands, where tents are the exception and less is the rule.
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What are bullets compared to magical enchantments? I see, and the words become ink upon paper.
Labels: Jane Gooding