A bit of my stories.

[Ninquelote]

I've always been called a 'short but sweet' writer, which I believe describes me very well. Here's the first chapter to one of my stories.

A docile breeze bent the tall grass that blanketed the forest clearing like a pale beryl sheath, hinted with flecks of beige and deep russet in places, marking the oncoming winter. The grass bent in shallow channels, varying in places, the wind undulating gently across the small meadow. The sterling-barked trees were adorned with leaves of crimson and gold, lining the clearing with a circlet of flaxen petiole. The sun dipped low in the western horizon, casting shades of aureate light against the cerise hue of the autumnal foliage.

A grey-cloaked figure crouched close to the clearing floor, level with the earth. It shifted positions slightly, moving forward, to a miniscule imprint in the grass. From beneath the cloak, a long, gauntleted right arm stretched out, laced with patterned leather and small beryl set along the knuckles. Long, pale, tapered fingers reached out to trace the outline of the indent in the grass, and then drew back abruptly, recoiling as if afraid of the mark. The figure remained crouched for a moment, recollecting its thoughts as it stared at the mark disdainfully.

The figure stood abruptly, revealing its thin frame as the slack of the grey cloak snapped to attention at the sudden movement. The slender figure ran through the tall grass, making no noise as it reached the trees with ease. It spoke in an unintelligible language, and as if in command, a heavily built, grey-dappled horse emerged from the birch copse, chewing its bit with slight annoyance. The peppered stallion snorted as his rider approached, shaking his muzzle as the hand that had previously touched the imprint in the grass stroked his mottled-grey neck. The slender, cloaked figure entwined its fingers in the horses dark mane, mounting their steed and positioning their lithe form comfortably into the Elven-made saddle. The rider moved to grab the reigns hanging loosely about their horses neck, pulling back lightly as they finally had them in their leather-bound grasp.

The stallion's neck arched slightly as his bit was pulled against his tongue, pinching him uncomfortably. He then began to back-step in protest, but soon was urged forward by the slackening of the reigns and the light nudge in his ribs that his rider gave him. He began with a bouncy trot, at first awkwardly, then with a quickening pace that slowly turned into a rolling canter, his rider needing not to guide him through the dense woodland surrounding them. Despite his fast pace, he picked his way carefully through the trees, carrying his cloaked rider through the forest.

In their haste, the rider's hood and cloak were thrown back by the wind, revealing the wiry, lean build of a female elf. She was clad in padded leather, dyed green with intricate embroidery lining the shoulders and upper arms; the breastplate of her armor also laid with a lattice of silvery designs common among her kin. A necklace, the jewelry meshwork of beryl, the same pale green as her gauntlets, and slightly tarnished silver was wrapped around her neck. It was adorned with a thin, white gold leaf, highly polished but worn slightly at the edges that were once sharp. This elf-maiden had a silky, pale complexion, her eyes like pale sage in the dim light of the setting sun. Her hair was loose, clipped short, and whipping behind her in her rapid pace, her face intent on her travel.



Her pace was kept with vigor for a long while, neither Elf nor Horse needing to stop for nearly a moments rest for an hour or more. The female elf pulled back on the reigns of her stallion without warning, her horse stopping with a slight lift of his forelegs in protest. She leaned forward at his movement, and dismounted with ease, settling him quickly as she slipped the reigns over his head. She grasped them firmly within her right hand and then dropped to her knees, bowing to an unseen deity. She held her head low, closing her eyes, the Elven-maid’s face changing from that of a will to be in haste to a more respectful manner.
(continued...)