Daniel Mould

  • Daniel Mould
    Published 3 years ago


    The wind nipped through the windows, fluttering the curtains solemnly. As the fabric flew out, the darkness of the night was revealed. Beside the bed in which her children lay, the Elve stroked their cheeks, watching as they slept in the glow of the candlelight, her two boys. Her expression seemed admiring, to watch her children sleeping so calmly, oblivious to every problem that could occur. As the door behind her was thrown open, she did not turn. Instead, her face began to become twisted with fear, and anger, and her eyes grew damp.