Wrapping cloaks around their heads and shoulders, they stepped out the door. The wind sent snowflakes whirling around in circles. The cold air stung their noses and lungs. Branches of the evergreens they passed hung low, heavy laden with snow, on occasion dropping their sparkling loads, adding to the snow drifts that encircled the trees’ trunks. The Centaurs’ hooves made a crunching sound as they broke through the ice that had formed across the top layer of deep snow. They lifted their knees and hocks high to release their hooves before taking another step. Soon, Carling felt Tibbals’s sides heaving from the exertion.
The Forest of Rumors was difficult to travel through even in the best of weather. No clear paths were evident on the leaf and pine needle covered ground, even when there wasn’t snow. The feathered needles of the pine trees reached out and scratched their faces and arms, as though purposefully intent on hurting them while trying to block their every route. The darkness in the forest made walking deceptive as shadows and textures had no depth. Tibbals and Tandum tripped several times, on occasion landing on their knees. Higson and Carling did all they could to stay on the Centaurs’ backs.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish