Author: Skye
Title:
The Twisted Path To Dark's Desmenes
Description: A young woman
entwines herself in a sealing of doom--a flash of fate as she sets upon the town
of Sleepy Hollow.
Violence:
None
Sex: None
Language: Mild--though quite prosaic.
Dusk's blackened fingertips were stroking the barely-visible sky as the horse and rider neared the edge of the forest. Gnarled trees leered down at them, whispering and ever-present, seeming almost alive in their menace.
The roadway trode upon itself emitted emotion - fear and desperation, as if it had no want to lead where it did. It twisted and coiled like a trapped animal, and was reluctant to actually move ahead. Fog rippled low to the ground, a placid pool disturbed only by the current of inbound streams of wind, and the four pebbles of the blood-bay's hooves. Rapidly-darkening skies did little to speed up the cloaked rider, though the gelding picked up his feet and started a more frenetic trot at the sight of the ever-so-slightly lighter pasturelands ahead. The woman riding gave him the reign to do so, and soon they moved at a canter - then gallop, as the horse's instincts lent him more fear and speed than would even an embodied threat.
They pulled reign at the border between pasture and wood. The feel of the woods faded, and a new one emerged, the fields, the pastures, they were...
~...afraid. Help us, we fear...He rides...~
The flock of sheep in the yellowed field beside her baaed and moved away, a single ewe pausing to look at her for a moment before dark eyes brought her elsewhere...
**He...?**
Snarling trees leaned out to catch at the grass and sky with darkened claw-branches....
~come to us....come to Him....~ The half-dead aspens whispered, they beckoned.
**He...Father...?**
Glare pranced, shadowed hooves flashing black as he whinnied nervously.
~come Tala-mind-sharer...find dream-peace...no hoof-flee, no shadow-battle...~
**Yes...sleep. Rest, and ride again tomorrow...**
Tala urged Glare forward, into a fast walk, to find a place to camp for the night. She had no idea how far ahead the village that would doubtlessly accompany this farm was, but even if it was just around the next twist of the road, she would not sleep there. She had been too long out of the presence of people to just ride right into a town, before entrance, she would have to prepare.
~flat-rest...there...under carve-claw...come~
Glare nudged under a confused canopy of sharp branches beside the road, to reveal a small hollow of a perfect size for both horse and rider. The grey fog seeped in through the trailing tendrils of light fungus and slender twigs to envelop the ground, but in the swirl of air Tala's heavy cloak made as she dismounted, it was swept away. She made a quick check for any animal-holes at the thick base of the tree, then quickly wrapped Glare's reigns around a protruding branch. Within a few more minutes she had unsaddled her mount and hung the leather piece and it's bags over another branch, to safeguard against the moistened ground.
Deftly retreiving her water flask from the left saddlebag, and pouring some of the cold liquid into her hand - more than once - she managed to let Glare drink. She then wrapped her cloak around her and bedded down, cold without a fire, but unable to light one under the almost-dead tree.
Glare's mind-voice echoed in her rapidly-fading consciousness, ~dream-peace, Tala-mind-sharer, hear mind-song of un-Sires...new-sun brings new-voices... dream-peace...dream-peace...~ ~**~
She did not wake to sunlight, nor warmth. The only clue to her that it was no longer night was the slightly lighter hue of the murky sky. Her eyes blinked open, and she was awake. She knew she had dreamt, but chose not to remember. Her dreams were never pleasant - she banished them from memory before they surfaced, and it was best that way, it always had been. Immediately, as efficient as any wild beast, she re-saddled Glare and moved out - no use in changing clothes, or pausing for food this morning. A town would be within the day's ride, and roast duck, or fresh grain, was far more appetizing than cold rations or the sickly tatters of already mulled-over sheep grass.
Yes, the food would be worth the shocked stares of villagers. Tala checked to assure that she had left nothing behind - neither item, nor trace of camp - then mounted easily. They rode out at a quick trot, back through the trees, then onto the twisting roadway. Waking birds chirped piercingly as they passed, and more than one tired fox slunk out of the way of the thumping hoofbeats that echoed through the forest. No creature interfered with the rapid pace Tala Wickfield set as she moved southward, towards the small town of Sleepy Hollow.
None would bother with a woman who set her own doom. And as the dark tip of a windmill appeared over the treetops, in the east, the sun's rays topped the horizon as well.