O N E ~ E I N D Y N
Fog rolls through the clearing slowly, its indefinite shape allowing it to mold to the surroundings. The soft white mist filters whatever little sunlight there is. Scents of the summer harvest drift through the humid air. The sun shines with only a dim phosphorescence beneath a thick blanket of looming grey clouds. The early morning is peaceful in these outer fields; away from the hustle of the crowded city, you can finally breathe. The only audible sound is the griffin’s distant call.
The soft morning breeze blows my shaggy bronze mane from my forehead. I close my eyes