The trek back to the well was cold, as the wind grew harsh and the evening sky darkened with clouds. Not many travelers were on the road, and as Jonmarc filled the buckets, he watched a man ride by, no doubt heading toward the warmth and welcome of the inn. The traveler wore a dark cloak that had seen hard use, his battered hat was pulled low to shield his face from the wind and his horse was mud-spattered. Jonmarc wondered idly what brought the lone rider out on such a miserable evening. He was just about to look away, back to the well, when something caught his eye. The stranger
Welcome to my worlds!
Action, magic, and adventure await.
© 2019 Gail Z. Martin. All rights reserved.