Much Belated Celta Thursday: Excerpt from Heart Thief
Ruis savored the myriad smells of the land outside the city, heavy with verdant growth dying in the autumn. The ground gently sloped down and was cleared of everything but fields fading from a brilliant green to green edged with brown.
With a new appreciation for life, his gaze scanned the undergrowth, bushes, and trees that marched across the land, blocking the sight of the Great Platte Ocean in the distance. Yet the scent of the sea drifted to him along with the fragrance of turning leaves.
He thanked the Lord and Lady that he lived. And he enjoyed every sensation — the green and purple and brown of the landscape before him, the distant sound of birds and other winged creatures, the touch of a freshening breeze drying the sweat from his skin, as well as the hum of the city that vibrated through the stone wall behind him. The wall that still carried the heat of the fall day.