The warhorse thundered through the darkened path as the couple ventured away from the bustling heart of the capital and descended towards the County of Medhir.
"Drystan, slow down!" shouted Sylvia, her voice barely audible over the pounding hooves as the knight urged the horse on.
The cold wind whipped against her face as they raced against time.
"We must hurry! It's going to rain, Sylvie!" Drystan exclaimed, paying little heed to her concerns.
He had observed the sky and anticipated a turn in the weather, but he hadn't expected the menacing clouds to gather so quickly, forming a dark anvil ready to unleash its fury. The rhythmic sound of the horse's hooves echoed through the night as they pressed on.
However, it didn't take long for the weather to take a turn for the worse. Raindrops began to fall from the ink-black sky, drenching the earth beneath them.
