Dec 7, 2015 2:17 am
The air is crisp and clear on this autumnal day. There is a slight chill, but it should warm on the afternoon. The celebration is beginning to enter full swing as the vendors have finished setting up their stalls. There is the aroma of spiced cider and fresh tarts fill the air. Children laugh and play in the square. A fiddler is playing a jovial tune to match the feeling in the air. Games of chance are being constructed down one avenue. The only thing that detracts from the mood are the dark gray storm clouds to the south.
Well, not the clouds themselves, but how the older villagers stop and stare at them. The clouds ring the mountains that form the border between the peninsula and the mainland far to the south. The mountains are a six day overland journey from Uncegilla Cove, and storms generally blow in from the north and west. It is unlikely that they will cause any issues for the festival. But the way they keep looking to the south is strange.
Well, not the clouds themselves, but how the older villagers stop and stare at them. The clouds ring the mountains that form the border between the peninsula and the mainland far to the south. The mountains are a six day overland journey from Uncegilla Cove, and storms generally blow in from the north and west. It is unlikely that they will cause any issues for the festival. But the way they keep looking to the south is strange.