Accounts from the Life of Briar Rose Tailor
Friday, January 11, 2013
Summer 1810 - Hunting the Blacktongue
Uncle Billy grimaced. "Cortez said the beast had a lair beneath that oak," he said, pointing to the sunken tree.
Father frowned. "Unless we are to wait for it to be hungry again, one of us will need to go down and poke it."
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment