Cold and oppressive.
Pushing against her.
Her eyes shifted to the side to gaze briefly at her petite companion, whose mess of dark locks shielded her expression from view, no thanks to the wind. It chased ash around their ankles and the scent of carrion to their noses.
Beneath their feet, the grass crunched and crumbled to dust. …So maybe it wasn’t ash. The blades were chalk white versus the fading yellow of your typical dead grass. The alder trees that sprinkled the fields were much the same, brittle clumps of leaves on their gray branches. How could anything be reduced to such a dismal state? There was literally a line where all this began, separating the green life that spilled from the sides of the Torreth Mountains from the death that affected the lands of Gamath.
Half a mile away, the city could be seen in the distance.
Elmiryn’s eyes again shifted to look at Nyx. It were as if she were afraid the youth would drift away like a stray boat, out into a cold ocean that would surely swallow her whole. She felt like grabbing the girl’s hand and never letting go. And why the neediness? Why the fear?
The warrior thought of the moment back at the foot of the mountains and her body tensed.
…The girl’s face to the ground, her chest not moving…
She had looked like the dead deer.
A short preview. Basically the start of the next chapter. It’s subject to change, but I’d just thought I’d prove I’ve actually got something…