Beth Toghill
Bio
Cat mum, avid cross-stitcher, long-term writer, short-time story-sharer, usually found with her head buried in a book.
Stories (2)
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Camaraderie
Alex was cold, wet, miserable and on the very edge of exhaustion; exactly as he had been for the last 13 days, 14 hours and 23 minutes. His shoulders had been holding up his Bergen for god knew how long and he felt like he would have permanent indentations for the rest of his life. He had somehow continued to trudge along behind his new troop, not having stopped once as they yomped onward. He couldn’t quite fathom the bloke at the front, Stiles, who still appeared to have a spring in his step, despite the constant rain and bellowed orders that came from the Sergeants and Corporals who were in charge of their training.
By Beth Toghill5 years ago in Humans
The Witch's Soul-Stone
Her soul was glowing, even a mortal could see that. He had not truly believed the legends, but there it was, the heart-shaped locket carefully dangling from her neck, glowing as she cast the spell that would render the man opposite her unconscious.
By Beth Toghill5 years ago in Fiction
