Slend fingers reach back as the Elf pulls his hood low over his head and steps into the hallway after the man. Closing the door with a faint thud... his booted feet move soundlessly over the floor as Sivitri rounds a corner and then another before coming to the main door of the Inn and stepping outside. An overcast sky and a light drizzle are the only things that greet him and with an inaudible sigh... he takes a few steps onto the porch and glances round for the halfing servant. A half-hearted smile forms upon his lips as the small one can be seen off in the distance, tugging upon the reins of his horse with all of his might, but with no avail. The grey horse shakes his head defiantly and tugs backward... almost pulling the struggling Halfling from the ground.
A then, black line parts Sivitri's thin lips as a shrill whistle cuts through the air and the horse lifts its gaze to meet that of the Elfs. A snort sends faint clouds of mist curling out from its nostrils as the horse paws at the ground before stepping out into the rain. The Halfling lets go of the reins as Sivitri stands next to the horse and easily lifts himself up... offering the small one a quick glance before spurring his boots into the horses side and disappearing towards the far gate of the town. The galloping hoofs of the horse resonate north road and choosnig the quickest path available. Rain pelts the rider and the beast as time of day drone on and the sun never shows itself. The only indication of the time of day is the lightening and darkening hues of the grey sky... and even as night befalls Sivitri, the rain continues to fall and the misty air remains.
Late into the night, the Elf stops along the side of the road and makes hurried camp. The next few days follow suit... riding hard through a misty greyness before taking a short nap and waking once more. No food is prepared... only thin, wafer like crackers that look very unappetizing but seem to give Sivitri and his mount more than enough energy to ride out the day and a good part of the night. On the fifth day, the rain subsides and a few strands of sunlight pierce the distressing gloom. As he rides, Sivitri casts back his hood and allows his golden hair to flow freely behind him. The strong legs of his horse tear at the ground as more sunlight pours from the heavens and the sun slowly begins to sink behind a line of nearby mountains off in the distance.
As the first signs of starts begin to dot the sky, Sivitri leads his horse off of the road and onto a nearby glade that lines the right side of the welll trod path. Sliding from the back of the beast... a hand appears from within the recesses of his cloak and soothingly strokes the ashen mane of the horse. The Elf leans over and whispers a few words into the horses ear before pulling away and preparing to set up camp. The horse lowers its head and begins to chew the damp, green grass at its feet. Though most of the wood upon the ground is damp... the Elf does manage to get a small fire started and he finds himself curled into a protective ball as the last rays of sunlight fade away and the moon rises to lay claim to the heavens. Pale starlight... the first starlight in many nights... bathes the scene below. Pure, silver eyes gaze upon the stars and Sivitri sighs...
'What I would not give to look upon the Meteor Sea this night. I am barely over halfway though with my journey... and then what? What will I do once I reach my destination? Fight? Die? I doubt even Gods know what will become of me...' Sivitri broods on this thought as his horse stirs next to him and a cool wind dances around the seated Elf... stirring the fire and causing its light to illuminate a good portion of the surrounding glade. Delicately pointed ears twitch as he cants his head to the side and narrows his gaze. A queer feeling comes over the Elf... a feeling as if he is not alone... and as if summoned from the shadows, a black cloaked figure steps in front of Sivitri and glares down at him from within the depths of a drawn hood... a faint flash can be seen as the firelight dances along the hilt of the figures sword. Sivitri muffles a sigh and quietly whispers to himself... 'What now?'