The sky was nearly as black as night, lit up only by the cracks of lightning that tore open the sky. The booming thunder silenced the sounds of Lukas' heartbeat and the pounding rain. Even the howling winds threatened to know Lukas over and onto the soft, slick mud beneath his feet.
But his feet dug through the mud and his body held together against the worst the storm had to offer. He pushed on through nature's defiance so that he could make his way to Mistfell.
If he was wise, he would have waited out the storm. Whether it be under the canopy or by a boulder, the thought did not come to him until long after he had already chosen to push through the storm instead.
By the time the storm was waning, Lukas was halfway up a lesser hill that stood between him and Mistfell. The rain, mud, and darkness pushed him back at every turn. But his pace quickened slightly as the rain and darkness receded in favour of a dwindling evening sun.
