Feeling sick. Here’s a bit of something I’ve been working on.
The wind wept through the winter-robbed trees, their creaking limbs adding to the mellow air a threatening undertone. Vecrain watched the shadows of waving branches through the little window of the inn. He listened to the cold night’s mournful cries while behind him the warm crackling of the fire and the hushed conversation of the other travelers were beckoning him to leave his brooding and rejoin merry mankind. Yet a longing, acute in sensation while frustratingly obtuse in object, had gripped him.
Tale Told 