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The winds have borne them again into the storm clouds and again his eyes find hers. He is listening now to distant echoes within the wind and his face darkens. “There is much we must face,” he says, a grim resoluteness in his voice. “Yes, it is difficult to see what lies ahead," a smile breaks through his hardened features as he looks at her, "But, for now at least, hope is all the foresight we need.” He falls silent then, holding her hand and setting his face toward the storm. The wind builds in intensity around them, feeding upon the strength of the storm itself and they ride swiftly along its currents to the tavern.
[ 03-01-2002: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]
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