The sun was already setting to the deep west, and the sky was tinged with a splendour of orange dye when the two horses galloped through the path leading to Mistdale.
In the fast bouncing movement, she could feel the rush of wind whipping her face ferociously and flying her wavy auburn hair into the air. The gleaming light of the afternoon lanced through the gaps in the forest canopy and reflected the shadows of the trees along the way.
Anna's little hands curled around Damon's waist as the horse flexed its strong hindquarters. Her adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream throughout the journey, and her face turned white.
She never thought riding the warhorse with the knight could leave her shaking and upheaving like this. It was totally different from the subtle lesson she had in Ardel.
