Literature
The Webs We Weave
“Are we lost?” Odilia frowned. She frowned at the trees around her, and the uneven, and unfamiliar terrain. She frowned ahead, the narrow and winding route she'd picked as 'some' kind of track, and back the way they'd come, where it seemed not to be any kind of track at all. She peered at Connlan, perched on Darroch's saddle, as she led the mighty horse along by the reins, and favoured the boy with a gentle smile. Pausing in their tracks, halting the great horse, she waited a moment. The forest was still, the air thick and humid. She wiped her brow with her arm. She had dressed down, somewhat, for the climate. A ruffled light cloth blouse, that left her shoulders bare, tucked into thin but sturdy green riding breeches. Tall brown walking boots and a quilted headscarf tied over her hair, keeping her long tresses back from her face. “Of course not.” She reached out, tilted up his chin just so, and then playfully flicked his nose. She would not, nay, could not tell Connlan that
