Storm Circle first version - discontinued

Chapter 5 - Therapy at Mistfall

Kirsten's presence in the stables could be easily recognized by the sound of her hiking boots hitting the floor.

Thud thud thud... click!

My barn door swung open.' Wake up sleepyhead!' Kirsten woke me up my putting on my halter. I was so sleepy that I yawned and noticed the stable clock.

'What? it is six!' I muttered,' And the sky is still dark.'

Kirsten rolled her eyes,'time's the essence, so let's get going. Come on, we have six hours' ride ahead of us. We need to get to Mistfall by noon. '

'Why are we going there?' I asked as I took a sip of water.

Kirsten eyes glinted,'you'll see..'

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We went outside. A pink trailer was parked in the middle of Fort Pinta square. It took me a moment to realize something,'wait.. you are not driving, are you?' Kirsten laughed so hard it took her 5 minutes to calm down.

'No, silly! Mr. Thomas Moorland is. He is my legal guardian when my parents are away. He will be driving.He is the owner of Moorland Stables, the stable a near Nimler's Highland. He is a good friend with my mum, Summer Swiftwalker. Let's go!'

The trailer zoomed away from Fort Pinta. I took a little nap as I was still drowsy. I dreamt about a giant marshmallow that looked like Dakota. Definitely lost my marbles.

When I woke up, we were in Hollow Woods. Great. The place I hate most besides Goldenhills. I distracted myself by eating some hay on the ground.

Nothing could possibly happen to me, right?

It was such a relief when we reached Valedale. Kirsten left 15 minutes with Mr. Moorland to have a refill of gas, and we drove up Firgrove Mountain path. The journey was rocky, and we got a flat tyre. We stopped again and fixed it. So by the time we reached Birk's Passage, entrance of Misfall, it was sundown.

Mistfall was a world of its own. While Jorvik was fairly civilized, Mistfall was just a lovely village with exotic biodiversity. Small blue glowing mushrooms lit our path. A few rangers dipped their heads as they saw us. Fallen logs and moss covered the paths. It was beautiful in its own natural way.

Finally at 8 o'clock, we pulled in a small village called Dundull. The houses were very petite and cute, made from oak and willow. Kirsten led me out of the trailer and Mr. Moorland went to get a drink of coffee.

Kirsten lead me to a small cottage, with a small pasture behind it. In it was a Connemara. The hut had a old sign with wooden carving, Dr. Eiren's Therapy. Kirsten knocked the door. A middle - aged woman came out.