He and Tarc usually didn’t talk much when they went out riding. It almost seemed wrong to interrupt the solitude. Only the soft thud of their horses’ hooves on the forest floor was heard as they worked their way up the mountain. Under the trees, a rich smell rose from the moist soil and decaying leaves. A crow, perched on the limb of a dead tree, cawed as the cool air whistled through the branches. Giant pines swayed gently like giant swings, back and forth, back and forth. The distinct chill the forest had before the snows would fly blew on Kief’s face. He shivered at the thought—it wouldn’t be long now.

Chapter 1 pg. 5