The Solitary ArrowPart 15
The bright sun of morning did little to warm the day. A chill northern breeze brought winds down from the mountains and whipped the turning leaves into orange and brown blizzards. Hyandai clutched her cloak about herself. "I dislike fall." She said to Harlen, peering back over her shoulder at him. Eying the trees as they denuded themselves for the winter, Harlen nodded. "It's colorful, at least." He said, plodding behind her as they passed through a small gap between two large...