It's midnight. A light mist whispers through Windhaven Glen like a hush, making the air moist with the smell of pine-needles and cedar. Down the path a noise is heard--a scraping much too loud to be a fox and too careless for a deer. The footsteps move down towards the center of the glen, and another noise breaks the night: the sound of a match striking.
Now, a small circle of light has broken through the darkness, and others can be heard coming down the path. One by one they
gather round the fire. They are story-tellers. Around the flame they weave their tales, each one adding to the others story.
Will you join them?
Welcome to the Story Fire at Windhaven Glen: a place for continuing stories. Come, sit by the fire and listen as the storytellers weave their tales, or, join them--add a thread to their ever growing tapestry of words!
Story #2: A Winter Fire The author did not intend this to be a continuing story when she submitted it, so no additions on this one. Decided to post it here anyways. Great short story. Enjoy!
It's midnight. A light mist whispers through Windhaven Glen like a hush, making the air moist with the smell of pine-needles and cedar. Down the path a noise is heard--a scraping much too loud to be a fox and too careless for a deer. The footsteps move down towards the center of the glen, and another noise breaks the night: the sound of a match striking.
Story #1: When the
Sky Fell
