Stand~
Dara
Twelvestones
Night fell on the second day, as black as the night before. A brisk wind whipped across the plain, catching and channeling sounds in eerie, deceiving currents. Campfires glimmered in the night, though fewer and closer together than the night before.
Under the cloak of darkness, silent blades sliced sleeping throats, though fewer and closer together than the night before, and gwynwulves again prowled the shadows. Because some lessons bear repeating.
They left in stealth, Dara and the deadliest of his warriors. They returned with nene prisoners stolen back from their captors. There would be no more t*****e towers.
Safe inside a tunnel far beneath the hollow hill, the elderly nenan Dara carried in his arms broke her silence.
“I can walk, young nene. You may put
