It was a cold misty day. The wind sent cold shivers down each person's spine. It was dark! There was an abundant amount of decaying, fallen branches, that covered the mountain forest. Brown moss coated the trees. Ice stood on the edge of each of the trees, like razor sharp knives. The icicles were hanging from the trees, they were as cold as an igloo in the Antarctic.
But magical visions occur and live changes forever!
Gjør som tusenvis av andre bokelskere
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.Du kan når som helst melde deg av våre nyhetsbrev.
