men look at each other again. She’s starting to feel anxious every time they do that.
“You get turned around when you were running from them beasties?” The older guard asks mildly. “Makes sense. No one comes to the Pale City anymore.”
The Pale City, the voice in her head whispers, so named because it is a pale imitation of what it once was.
The woman flinches at the intrusion, then must bite her tongue to stop herself responding to the disembodied entity. She had almost forgotten about it amidst the chase. Now, the reminder of its presence is an
Just Another Struggling Writer 
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