The first part of a story I've been working on
Current mood:  adventurous

It was like any other stormy mid autumn day this side of the Pass of Bier'Hadeen, through the Mountains of Karkaross. It was just barely cold and the trees were a sea of orange, red and brown; the occasional stiff breeze scattering the drying, dying leaves like a hurricane of shuffling papers. A flash of light and a resounding boom betrayed a large storm cloud rumbling towards town.

The cloaked woman riding down the muddy dirt road, drenched and holding her barely conscious son wrapped in blankets, could not break the edge of the storm no matter how hard she urged her horse onward. The sounds of pounding hooves had long since been drowned out by sheets of rain and surges of lightning. The mother knew the old horse may not survive the journey. Celestina was quite surprised the old, bloated brown mare had made it this far. Starrvog hadn't been out for a proper ride in the better half of a decade and had grown, for lack of a more delicate phrase, fat and lazy. More importantly, the glow emanating from her son's eyes was growing brighter, the blanket no longer able to hide his illuminescence. Onward she rode, a rebellious light in the dark of the storm, racing for the walls of Cyricene.
Her vision was hindered by the increasing intensity of rainfall illuminated by her son's white light, and though Celestina could no longer see the walls of the city as she had when Starrvog crested the last hill, she only let Starrvog's pace slacken for fear the old mare might topple over just ahead where the muddy dirt road gave way to slick cobblestone.