On the far side of the island, the misty forest was less thick. The trees stood further apart from each other, and were not as tall as in the other areas. The ground, however, was more rocky and uneven. It rose and fell, forming steep hills and deep ravines — not that it mattered. Usually, terrain like that would make it hard to see a potential enemy in advance, increasing the risk of walking into an ambush…
But with the damned fog veiling everything around, why did it matter? Every kind of terrain was just as bad here.
Sunny still commanded Nightmare to slow down, afraid to encounter another chasm and plummet down without ever having a chance to stop. Flying through a thick forest at breakneck speed was already thrilling enough, and he really didn't want to fall into a nest of monstrous millipedes due to the lack of caution.
Riding the black steed through the mist, Sunny held the Guiding Light high and followed its shine.
His breathing was heavy.