The green of Breeland faded as they galloped over the Weather Hills, the grass turning brown and more coarse as the land grew barren. Above the pair, the sky stretched, bright blue and cloudless. As they descended the hills, Gwennol could hear a river and she peeked over the bobbing head of the horse to sight a strip of silvery water, sparkling in the bright sun as it wound through the scrubby land. Pren guided the steed around the tight bends of the ravine, mindful of the tumbling stones that crumbled along the edges of the path. The land was silent, only the sound of the wind whistling through the bare limbs of a few stunted trees and the rhythmic beats of the heavy hooves were heard.
Pren looked about the lands he recognized, staying mainly upright in the saddle, his arms around Gwennol and Cysgod, the craban, perched on his broad shoulder, taking a break from flying.
Gwennol admired the steep cliffs as they crossed the bridge, the land barren and rocky. She looked down the gorge into the fast flowing river, "It's rather lovely, in a stark manner."
Pren looked down at her with a slightly puzzled look on his face. "I have nearly died there many times. It is not lovely for me."
Gwennol made a small sound in her throat, "Oh, I didn't know. It is a lonely place though, barren not just of plants but spirit of the land is silent. Harsh but lovely." She looked back at him, "No, I suppose if you've nearly died here then it is not."
After riding a bit farther, Pren stopped and looked upwards, reaching around to gently push her chin upwards to look at the peak of Weathertop as well. "You like the lands, hmm?"
Gwennol felt his calloused fingers on her skin and she blushed slightly, looking up where he guided her gaze. The lone peak towered over them, she could make out ruins on the top, like a broken crown on an ancient brow. She nodded, "It is beautiful but sad, they've been abandoned by the spirits."
Pren urged the horse forward at a trot, heading towards a narrow path up the slope of the large hill. It was not a proper mountain but it was the highest peak in the area, commanding a view over the entire region. Gwennol bounced against the horse, leaning forward to help it navigate the steep terrain. Pren remained as still as he could up the rocky hillside, finally when they reached the top did he dismount, offering his hand to her. She took his hand, sliding off the horse and landed on her feet with a soft grunt, wincing slightly at the muscle cramps.
Pren held onto her hand, leading her to the side of the summit. They walked over the ruins, some of the stones marked with stars and ancient writing that neither could read. Bits of grass grew between the slabs, brittle and hardly enough for the horse to graze on. Gwennol allowed him to lead her, gripping his hand as she stepped over broken and tumbled stone. She paused at the rim of the wall, staring at the vista. She inhaled sharply, her river colored eyes widening at the vast view.
"What do you think?" Pren looked over the landscape, his eyes scanning ruin after distant ruin. His eyes followed a path he could see, faintly marked in the dun colored land.
Gwennol turned to look up at him, "I think it's magnificent. You can see so much and though it saddens me to know this land is dead I can hear whispers in the wind. Perhaps one day it will remember and live again."
"Perhaps one day," Pren looked at the path once more, as if making a mental note where it is and lead to. He then looked down to her, before he would try and follow her gaze to where ever that may be.
Gwennol turned to observe the ruins around them, "It was once great, but no longer. Like so many other places, the proud tall men reached too high and they fell." She looked for a few moments longer and then turned to him, "It is lovely in it's way but I long for living lands."
Pren went to move her to stand closer to the edge ruins, holding onto the back of her robes to keep her in a tight grip. He then pointed to the east, "See up there?"
Gwennol pushed back against him, feeling the wind buffet their bodies, her long reddish hair whipping against his face. She followed his gesture, "Yes, what is it?"
"That is where the trees grow tall and green. Spirits are there. I have been there a few times," Pren remained standing tall and strong, letting her push back against him.
Gwennol narrowed her eyes in the wind, gazing to the east, her fingers curling against his fur lined armor as she held herself steady, "Are we going that way?"
The big warrior nodded, "It is the only way to Dunland apart from the Greenway."
Gwennol reached up to gather her long hair and twist it around her fingers to keep it from waving up into his face, "I look forward to that, these lands of tall trees. What else do you know of them?"
Pren didn't really seem to mind about any hair hitting his face, his eyes too focused on the distance. "The first half is safe and filled with good spirits. The second half.. dark spirits lie, dancing about shooting arrows and chasing Dunlendings out of their lands."
The young Derudh leaned back against him, taking comfort in his sturdiness as the wind pulled at her robes, the drop off of the cliff edge just inches away, "Then we must be silent and swift in our passage in the second half of those lands. I do not wish to disturb dark spirits."
Pren looked up to the sky briefly, squinting at the mixture of sun and wind, clouds starting to form in the west, "Good. I do not want to be shot at again by them."
She moved away from him, keeping one hand on his arm as she left the edge, "Nor do I want to pull one of those arrows out of your flesh."
Pren remained at the edge for a while longer. His fur cloak picked up by the evening wind as it gusted and rippled behind him, "Do you want to make camp here or move on more?"
"I suppose here, it will be dark soon and the valleys are in shadow already," she replied, noting the setting sun as she gazed to the west, the clouds tinged in gold and pink. She stood watching, despite the dead land and the muted spirits she felt something about the lonely place that moved her.
Pren nodded before he turned and followed her, "Let us hope for no rain." He chuckled deeply before he went to unsaddle the horse.
Gwennol gave him a look, raising her eyebrow at him, "Yes, let us pray no rain falls on us, without a tent or tree nearby. Also there is a lack of firewood here."
Pulling some furs off the horses back, Pren headed over to an old ruined-wall before he threw them down, "Then we will have to find another way of staying warm if the night is cold."
The young woman looked up at the sky, the golden light fading already in the west as the indigo in the east spread across, the first stars already shining faintly, "Land like this doesn't hold warmth, it will be cold once the sun is down." She walked over to him, picking up one of his furs, "It is good you brought so many, mine were rolled with the tent."
Pren pushed his bear hood back, looking at the two remaining furs on the ground after one was picked up. "They should be enough to keep us warm."
Gwennol laid her staff against the wall, Cysgod perched along the ruins and watched their activities. "There isn't much food for a horse up here, did you bring grain?" She opened her bag, bringing out some dried strips of boar.
"It will be fine," Pren looked over at the horse that had started to crop the short and dead grass.
Gwennol handed him the meat before finding some wrinkly bits of dried apples, "Dinner is served." She smiled a little at him, pulling out the water skin and sitting down with her back against the wall.
Pren took the meat before he sat down next to her, sticking it in his mouth and chewing.
She drew her knees up against the chill wind that whipped through the ruins, nibbling on a bit of the sweet tart apple, "I think I've enough food for a month, if we eat sparingly and hunt or fish when there is time."
"There will be enough things to hunt in the coming lands," he assured her, working on the dried meat.
Gwennol nodded at his comment, "And when time allows, if we are forced to move swiftly then we will need the provisions." She pulled the fur around her slim shoulders, glancing at him with gratitude.
Pren replied, "True. The horse can carry us fast enough through the spirit-lands."
Gwennol watched the sky darken to the color of a bruise, the scattered clouds moving swiftly. "Yes, that beast is quite sturdy, your friend was very generous." She pulled the fur closer around her as the temperature dropped, covering her chest.
Pren nodded before tiredness took him. He lay down against the wall somewhat, having finished his meat rather quickly. "Come. Let us sleep."
The young woman leaned back against the wall, but slowly slipped down until her head is on his thigh, her body curled up under the fur cloak.
He gently brushed her hair slightly with one hand as his eyes closed and soon he was sleeping, a light snore coming from him though as usual. Pren slept lightly, his ears alert to strange sounds but nothing was heard by the wind and the rustle of the dry blades of grass among the broken stones of Weathertop.
