He scratched his beard unhappily.
She was the youngest they’d found yet.
He sighed and called it in.
The snow became canvas for another bloody ending.
He scratched his beard unhappily.
She was the youngest they’d found yet.
He sighed and called it in.
The snow became canvas for another bloody ending.
Not Quite Through the Looking Glass 
Is it an avalanche?
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So much story in so few words. I really like this. Thanks.
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Oh, that is sad.
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This is brilliant, and such a wonderful use of the prompts! The image you leave us with is superb! I can’t say enough great things about this. So good!
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Loved this one!
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