Looking up, you smile. The magic crept in during the night, bringing Dragons and turning the familiar, over-used trail into 'The Road Not Taken'. Dangers cannot be seen through the thick, soft blanket of atmosphere. A roar, not too distant, prompts you. In the damp and the chill you have no weapons. You must rely on yourself and your companion. He is unafraid, trembling with anticipation. A thought of movement, as you look toward the sound of the beast, sends him in that direction. Another roar, this one closer and to the left, maybe the hunting will be good today. Cautious, unable to see clearly beyond a few yards, you ask for a little speed, to the left. You both feel the thrill of the chase. Listen, the beasts have retreated, you will have to hunt hard to catch one today, although they can be heard now and again in the distance. As always, the chase is the reason for the hunt. Your steed extends his stride, eager to be traveling, it is what he does best.

What is this? Hard unnatural ground, go carefully over the hard, grey strip, then step back up onto the grass and dirt on the other side

Pick up speed, the highwayman can't be far behind. But as the sun begins to burn and the air clears, you know that you will be safe. They were unable to follow. Perhaps during the early hours they became lost in the thick forest or in the canyons. As the day advanced, their inferior mounts would have become fatigued and overheated and forced them to slow their pace.

Slowly trotting down the driveway and in through the gate, you slow to a walk and then stop to speak to friends who are grooming and saddling in preparation for an afternoon ride. "How unusual for you to be back so soon," they say, "The fog only lifted an hour ago."