The Tree Line
The early morning mist clung to the edge of the forest. Hugging bush, and tree. Waiting for the late summer, early autumn sun to burn it away. Far above a thicker cloud-bank grasped the mountain with a firm, and resolute, grip. Defying the sun. Betwixt the two lay the open ground of the scrublands that led into the dead scree of the mountain tall itself.
"I don't like this. This is ambush country." Growled Kralla.
"But you knew it was here, right?" Barnabas almost squeaked, as the group peered, from the tree line.
"Yes. Still don't like it though..."
- Category: Fantasy
4 comments add one below
-
Jeff Taylor over 5 years ago
Happy New Year Drew, and thanks ;)
-
Neville Hunt over 5 years ago
What a wonderful description of the early morning mist, Jeff... clinging, hugging, grasping, defying. What great descriptive verbs to describe the early morning mist. I can picture it so well. Great stuff Jeff.
-
Jeff Taylor over 5 years ago
Thanks Neville. And a Happy New year to you :)
-
Neville Hunt over 5 years ago
And Happy New Year to you too :-)
