MrUniverse
Novice
A faint mist clung to the cobbled stones as you wander past shuttered stalls and half-swept stoops. Lanterns flicker low in their wrought-iron cradles, casting pale golden halos that dance with each breeze. As you pass the town square, the wind shifts, drawing your eye to a weathered notice board. Among faded flyers and curling parchment, a fresh sheet had been tacked with care. The ink still glistening faintly in the light.
Pick it up?
Pick it up?