The sun was already sinking in the far west, painting the sky with brilliant shades of orange as the two horses galloped along the path towards Mistdale.
With each powerful stride, the wind rushed fiercely against Anna's face, sending her wavy auburn hair flying behind her.
Golden rays of the late afternoon sun pierced through the gaps in the forest canopy, scattering shifting patterns of light and shadow across the narrow trail.
Anna's small hands clung tightly to Damon's waist as the warhorse surged forward, its mighty hindquarters driving them swiftly down the path.
The relentless motion sent her heart racing, adrenaline coursing through her veins until her face grew pale.
She had never imagined that riding a warhorse with a knight would leave her feeling so shaken and overwhelmed. It was nothing like the gentle riding lessons she had received in Ardel.
