The horse was restless, sensing his master in the camp. But not yet. She wouldn’t enter the encampment yet. The waxing crescent moon was giving a wide grin on the night sky and Deathbearer had to exercise just a little bit more patience. Angralia had failed but the world of immortals offered other… instruments… for a carefully orchestrated jab at Belial’s pride. Some of those implements were just better than the others. And it seemed she had found the best possible one for her intrigue.
Mud squelched under invisible hooves but the sound drowned in the laughter coming from the campfires. It had stopped raining and the spirits of the troops were elated as the result. How little the mortals needed for the illusion of luck, happiness, or good fortunes. Just a calm night with star lit sky and extra rations of hooch. Deathbearer grimaced in derision over their foolishness and left the camp unseen. In silence. For now.
The real target of all her schemes wasn’t there anyway. He denied her even breathing the same air as he. The arrogant bastard. Belial. And the silken syllables of his name whispered into the oblivious darkness sounded both wistful and vengeful.
What scheme does she have in mind and who is her tool? Do you want to read on? Then the tantalizing tease from Trails of Love I Crawl Part 2 has been successful
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The image of the moon is in public domain: Almost There by Bobbi Jones Jones