Novelas y relatos de Do You Feel The Mountains Tremble

And I can't help but to shiver as I felt the overwhelming fear in my whole system. "T-thanks." Was all I could say. I tried to carry the platter which contained the food that I prepared for Maze but stopped immediately when I saw my hands shaking. I needed to calm myself first. I can't let Mew see me like this. "And Gab?" My breathing hitched when Crimson called my name once again. I feel like I'm about to hear something controversial from him. "W-what is it?" I said before trying to clear my throat. "Please promise me that no matter what happens, whatever are the things you find out, you won't ever leave Maze's side." He sounded demanding, it's as if he's not accepting any other answer from

I close my eyes, pinch the bridge of my nose with my other hand to chase away the sudden spinning world. I don't get to stabilize myself before a roar, as if something huge is crying out, makes the entire mountain tremble. The wolves get away from the edge, just in time to evade a boulder falling on the ledge, taking the part with it. I stare in shock, then slowly look towards my bloodied hand. Wide-eyed, I stare, the vibration beneath my fingers makes my entire arm shake. Like something out of a fable, the blood dripping from my hand moves.

Silas opened his mouth to speak, his brow furrowed as he tried to reconcile the ancient myths with the tangible threat at our borders, but the words never left his lips. A sudden, massive groan resonated from the absolute depths of the mountain. The heavy stone floor beneath our feet violently bucked and heaved. On the surrounding shelves, ancient, dusty scrolls and heavy leather volumes tumbled from their perches, raining down into the darkness. Dust and ancient mortar showered down from the arched stone ceiling, blinding in the dim candlelight. The tremor didn't feel like a normal earthquake; it felt deliberate, a heavy, rhythmic shifting of weight deep within the bedrock, as if some monol

I don't like the silence that I used to love, not when it means she isn't talking. I watch her, as she takes in the landscape of the mountains I love. This time of the year, the mountain tops are still covered in snow from the winter, making them look like they glitter in the sun. Flowers are starting to bloom, and ssoon, there will be spring berries all over.

Then, the mountain spoke. A massive, bone-deep tremor ripped through the valley. It wasn't just a shift; it was a cataclysm. The floor of the basin cracked, the ground splitting open with a sound like a mountain being torn in two. The floodlights in the camp collapsed, swallowed by the earth as the ground buckled and folded under the pressure.