The wind whipped up and howled through the trees, carrying with it a think blanket of mist and smoke. As his chants grew louder, the wind blew harder, tugging at his shaggy hair, chilling his exposed skin.
The time was near. It wouldn't be long before the ritual was complete.
He wasn't sure what was going to happen, who would appear, or what would be brought upon this world. All he knew was that he was close.
With each word that left his mouth, the ground shook more and more.
This made me think of the camping trip at Clarksburg when we left at 5 AM - maybe the ritual was the campfire that was halted due to the storm.
ReplyDeleteieyu, ilys