Snow of the Whitethorn: Chapter 7

Whispers in the Woods

Wren and Otter wasted no time putting distance between themselves and Beechwood Palace. At first, the ride was quite pleasant and they made good time through the starlit forest trails that led to the druid’s oak grove. They passed a few villagers enjoying themselves in the Greenwood, as they often did, telling fairy stories around the fire and drinking their cheeks pink with honey mead. Soon it would be too cold for such fun. On the mountain, it was probably already winter, Otter reassured himself, sweating under his many layers of winter clothing.

“Why don’t you take some of that off?” Wren asked as they rode further into the tangled wood. “It’ll be hours and hours before you need it.”

Otter shrugged her off and kept riding, eager to make progress before morning.

“Otter, come on,” said Wren, “You’re not going to ignore me all the way to the Ashen Mountains, are you?”

“Hush!” Otter said, turning sharply in his saddle. Silver Smoke, his mare, snorted in response.