My Side Of The Mountain Audiobook Romane & Geschichten

Celeste whispered. This felt insane. My brother hadn’t been taken over by a demon. He was having a psychotic break from PTSD and the lingering effects of the fumes in that mountain. Nothing more. And I was going to bring him home and help him get better. I closed the book and handed it back to Karl. Sure enough, by the time the sun started to break over the horizon, my men and I were back on the path. We moved just as quickly as before, and eventually, the mountain’s peak came into view.

I asked. "Kashmir," he said, moving around me to walk inside. "You're looking at Himalayan mountains." I looked at the mountains in the distance once more before following him inside. "How long have we been here?" I asked him, closing the cabin door behind me. "Just over eight hours," he said, stooping down in front of the fire place. He threw the freshly-chopped logs into the dying fire that burned in the hearth. I watched as the fire regained strength and the flames began to climb higher against the stone that contained them.

Salvatore’s voice carried from inside the tent still as he barked orders and laughed at his victory that hadn’t happened yet. Not wasting another second, I used my speed, my feet barely touching the ground as I ran. The world turned into a haze of color as trees and shadow blurred into fast moving lines. My heart beat matched the rhythm in my body, fast and hard while my breath came out in short cold spurts. The mountain ridge was a few yards away now. I moved through the bushes and found him on the other side. He was propped up against a massive boulder with his arms folded over his chest, giving me a hard studied look from under his sharp eyes.

"He's coming, but, when I can't tell you." Dreading the next few days couldn't happen. I had to be calm. Getting the packs together was going to be hard. We were the biggest pack in America. We stayed in the HOH Rainforest of Washington State. Seattle was a little over four hours away. There was also Port Angeles and Oylimpia. Near us stood Mt. Olympus. Not the one in Greece, but the same name. Suddenly I froze. "There's no way. Is there?" Hercules said startled. "It has to be a coincidence. They were named many years apart "

Finally, I found one on the opposite side, with a window to the outdoors, and I realised that wherever we were must be built into the side of one of the mountains too. But where, I had no idea, and didn't have time to find out. I unlocked the window, sliding it up as quickly and quietly as I could, slipping through it and closing it again, hoping they wouldn't search this way. I winced as my feet touched the icy ground, wishing I'd found shoes or something, 'We're coming, little wolf,' Finn sent then, his voice a little stronger and clearer inside my head this time, and I felt a rush of relief.

The Third Side of the Coin This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2021 by InamorataFeels All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

He thanked me for giving him the idea. “You’re welcome, sir. I’m glad I could help you.” I told him. Before he left the mountains, he thanked me profusely. After he left, I went back to writing my book. I moved from one spot of the mountain to the other while collecting different herbs and flowers. When I felt hungry, I took out the food that Mei packed for me. I continued to write and write until the sun went down and I could no longer see the paper in front of me. I packed up my stuff and went back to where my horse was tied to. It was dark and I was having trouble navigating out of the mountains so I took it slow and I had my bow ready in case of any bandits or wild animals.

"Where's your family? There are some things I need to discuss with them." "I don't have any family. Please, just give it to me straight." The doctor hesitated for a moment before admitting, "Several of your internal organs are severely ruptured and displaced. Your kidneys, in particular... I'm afraid things don't look good." I wanted to smile, but I couldn't even move the corners of my mouth. I had forgotten that after enduring countless bouts of high fever in that isolated, godforsaken mountain, my face had already become partially paralyzed.

“To the ones who taught us that strength is not in holding on forever, but in knowing when to let go and when to return.” The howl that followed shook the trees. Later, as the fires burned lower, Soren leaned against me, her head on my shoulder like she had when she was small. “Tell us about the mountains,” she whispered. “The real story. Not the legends they sing about you.” So we did.

"He said paper should remember the people who touched it." Serena felt a strange tightness grow in her chest. The mountain wasn't preserving documents. It was preserving memories. Then, from somewhere deep below, a voice echoed faintly through the ancient corridors. Not loud. Not distorted. Clear. It belonged to an elderly man. Calm. Gentle. Patient. The recording had waited decades for this exact moment. "If you're hearing my voice..." The words drifted upward through the mountain. "...then my family has finally come home."