riding

Click here to listen

He played the music for a place where a stream met a dark, clear lake.

Also known through endearment and chance as the Lake of Tears.

The stream swept, climbed, danced as it always would. Then the lake ran, rapid and smiling despite herself. Regal as a queen and joyous as a windswept banner.

The disturbance, he secretly fancied, caused light to finally reach down to the depths.

Even if only for a little while. 

The only upside to their near frantic pace, was that Davamir could not make nearly as many annoying jokes. She was certain that, when given the opportunity, he would absolutely make a great many jabs at Furley's idiocy.

The moon was high in the sky, casting its cold rays down over the fields and limning each leaf and blade of grass in pale silver. It gleamed like a half-lidded eye among the stars, watching the world drowsily. Like it, Sarnai was awake.