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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2021
Weekly Contest #356
The reek of boiling Scaelith fat hung thick in the storm-whipped air, a greasy stench of slaughter that clung to the back of the throat. Elara knelt on the salt-burned stone of the headland. She shuddered, the stuttering rhythm in her chest pounding through the roar of the Gulf of Nordred. Below her, the cove was a death trap. For weeks a rip tide had ignored the moon, churning the black water, dragging fisher-skiffs into the jagged reefs of the Keldrun Shelf.The storm tore at her oiled cloak, but the trembling in her hands had nothing to do...
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