Literature
The Waterfall
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The following morning, the cold winter snow and frost were growing heavier and faster than ever imaginable, water was slowly, but surely freezing over and the sound of no creature could be heard in the deep, vast woodlands.
Gwenevere walks softly through the silent air; dark curls lay over her deep red clock, draped gently. She could feel the deep frost entering her lungs, catching her breath; she clinched the clock closer to her body, continuing through the woodlands.
Was she safe with the men of whom her father told her stories of, Arthur and the Sarmatian Knights; were they all a myth. She was not frightened of death, du
