The Importance of Books
After riding through the gray weather for an hour, a gust of chilling wind blew away the dense clouds, letting the evening sun peep out even if it was for a little while. Lerna's mare neighed softly as she shook the prisoned snowflakes out of its glossy mane.
She slowed her mare, in order to slowly let it into the sun. Sun was a rare commodity in Hydra and so whenever it was out, Lerna would run wild beneath it. This is what she did now—enjoy the feel of it on her face. Feeling languid, Lerna patted her mare and scratched her mane as she watched the trees around her. Every other often she would see a blur of white or brown or black or gray among the gnarled branches of the woods. She would glance at Rigel, hopefully hoping that he wouldn't look back at her, but she would find him looking her way only. Her cheeks would pink and she would whip her head away.
"I wanted to say one thing to you. Can I ask for something?" Lerna said with a lot of courage.