The stench of the horses was strong-Mircea teetered on her horse's stable as she tried and failed to attune to the horse's speed. They had to hit the border by dusk-Athos had taken it upon himself to hightail their journey.
Mircea had no problem with it except her horse's saddle's ropes were loosened and it was getting hard to get a grip. To stop now would be foolish, she pondered. Suddenly a band of bright rays blasted through the canopy making Mircea flinch. It was mid-morning and the lofty trees casted a dark shadow making it seem otherwise. The forest rarely opened up a few holes to let the sunlight pass.
The forest of the south was denser than the white northern lands-the rains in this area were heavier than people of Slyve had ever seen. The soil was rich and fertile-one of the reasons why humans were so ahead of time.
