he Hooded Man in Sunrise Village
The dawn's initial caress of light seeped painfully along the edge of the horizon, dyeing the world in melted gold and dull orange. Shadows swept along the cobble streets as the sun rose higher, its heat driving the dampness of the night aside. Birds were the earliest to wake, wings fluttering against the air, their song blending into a muted chorus. Then the noises of life—groan of shutters flung wide, solid clang of boots against stone, and low murmur of voices as the village awakened gradually.
