We left by the side exit, and our breath rose in waves and mingled with the swirling mist. It was a pale lemon morning, the air so cold it felt like you could crunch it. The grass was crispy with sparkling frost, and the blossoms trembled with drops of dew that caught the sunlight and quivered.
– Anbara Salam, Belladonna
Darkestwings Reads