Author: Hob Goodfellowe

They rode for an hour, twisting and winding out of the woods. They saw no one else, either in the woods, or back on the road when they found it. The half-dead woman, if she was about, was keeping herself well concealed. No other travellers seemed to have taken the road through the woods at…

“I see.” She looked at the door to the outside. Trees and fallen leaves were visible through the gap. “Are we still in the woods with the crow roosts? Near Sorcery Tor?” “Crow Hall Woods, yes, yes. What of it?” “Then Dapple will find me sooner or later.” She turned to the man. “I swear…

Several wooden poles had been sunk into the ground to support a sort of overhanging porch of thatch at the front of the house. There was a small table and a single stool. A trencher and cracked old mug sat on the table, some remnants of dried food crusted to the former. There was no…

While Caewen struggled to free herself, the half-alive, half-dead woman leaned closer and narrowed her line of sight, staring hard and direct. The noise of Dapplegrim angrily stomping and yelling was growing faint. Caewen realised that the woods all around her had visibly dimmed too, as if she was now looking at the world through…

Well, here we are then. I’m going to start posting this as a work-in-progress. I’ll set this up as posts of about a thousand words. This is just a first draft, so the final version may end up quite different. I don’t want to comment too heavily about why I might be choosing to do…