Just before dawn, they had settled down for a meal. They were so far into the forest now, Hilaniue would not have been able to find the way back on her own. They had made a small fire, just to warm their hands and feet, and to cook the last bit of trout they had brought with them. Hilaniue was sick of the smell of fish, which had oozed from Harding’s bag the whole way, she could not wait for it to be gone.
They had sat down around the fire, just like the night before. Only now, everyone seemed less interested in conversations. They ate in silence.
It was time to get moving again. It had already started getting dark. They mounted their horses and continued south. The trees around them appeared blue in colour, the treetops black as the night. Wolves were howling in the distance, Hilaniue could see an owl cooing in a tree. A flock of crows flew above their heads, cawing loudly as they passed. Once it got too dark for them to see the ground in front of them, Malconius allowed them to stop and rest. They didn’t set up their tents this time, they only made a fire, and slept in the open. The fire warmed Hilaniue’s body. She didn’t have any trouble falling asleep. Only twelve more nights until we reach the elves.
© M. M. Wedin 2017