The Ambaram As the icy wind cuts through the sleepy forest of Ambaram, the dried leaves from the top of old trees that were barely appended to the thick and thin branches finally resigned their lives at the top and descended to the solid grounds. They were deteriorating under the harsh attacks of a cruel climate. The dry weather was sucking the moisture out of them. The shady fog wasn’t allowing the sunlight to reach them, limiting their source of nourishment. Soon, the trees will discard them completely and as the spring will come around the corner, new buds will sprout, marking the commencement of a new season. Valentina was sitting on the wooden stairs of the porch, curled in a thick blanket. Her nose was dipped in a book. Arnold has left for his duties at the chief’s house early in the morning, a few hours ago from now, leaving her alone in the entire cottage. Surprisingly, today he took Diam with him, unlike the other days. According to Arnold, the poor beast was itching for a r
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