Between Wolves & Doves

Chapter 22 Homeland

Kylo's explanations of his native land proved true; Iris was enchanted from her first glance.

They passed quaint little hamlets and impossibly neatly hemmed towns. Thin tall timber buildings like the ones in the port, woods and forests dominated everywhere- she liked that. Birch tree woods and thick gigantic forests.

The coach with its huge wheels and comfortable red scarlet interior scampered over the roads and stone bridges and cold wintry lanes.

Iris is perfectly mesmerised as they pass through another forest. She's never seen trees so tall, so brutally huge she can't even glimpse at the sky. Only the foggy green of their tips. The gentlest smears of white blaze between their tops. Overcast light of day could barely reach the dense mossy forest floor. The dappled brown-silver bark on the tree trunks rarely saw sunlight. Woods so deep and black she can quite see how they would be doubly eerie at night.

She can see why Kylo loves these woodlands. The ones of his homeland. She could understand how he could feel so at one, at peace, with the density of the beautiful deeply dark forest. The air here seemed so bright and crisp, she could scent the vivid notes of it even through the carriage door.

It snuck in the cracks in that velvet door. Spice of pine and holly and tree sap. Thick claggy mud encrusted with dry leaves, and the kind of crisp clear sky before rain threatens. So cold it sent a chill down her spine. Distant tang of woodsmoke that hinted at a village hidden beyond the thick tree-line. She wants to slide down the window panel in the door and have that cold whip her hair and tangle in her lashes. Breathe in this new land, this new home.

She's never known a landscape like this one. She'd seen the untamed peaks of the highlands and the sheer beauty of the dales and lakes of yorkshire. Neither of those things compared to the beauty of these rocky jagged mountains. They loomed over the gigantic forest. Standing guard like a stocky protector.

The forest clears, thins out, and they crawl even further up the mountain. They come to a little town. Just as serene and quaint as all the others they've passed. Medieval German with mustard yellow walls and walnut timber. There's courtyard squares and arches and cobblestoned streets. The wood of the timber frames and stone pavements of the town is formed, chipped out of the very side of the mountain it sat on.

They pass by a beautiful round fountain set in the town square. Ladies and gentlemen walking around the little village. Taverns offer shelter from the bitter winds.

She imagines in winter they can be the cosiest place to escape to from the elements. Fires roaring. Intimate oak tables and a pint of famed German beer. Who could want for more simple pleasures in life? She's sure as a landed lady she shouldn't admit to that. But after their cosy pub excursions in Scotland she is satisfied by that meagre thing.

There's lots of cafes and bakeries. She counts six. The usual small town wares. A general mix of places. Dressmakers, tailors, haberdashers, butchers and delicatessens. She understands the regions specialty's are smoked cured meats and cheeses and some red wine she'd never heard of.

The coach seemed to attract a lot of attention as it passed through town. People stopped and gathered in crowds to point and talk. Some even waved. Clearly the locals hereabout were used to the sight of Lord Ren's magnificent coach. The crest on the door signifying the gentry within.

The carriage roars and clacks across the cobbles. Passing under a beige stone concrete arch near the clock tower that ended the little village and set them upon a climbing road once more. Soaring up the mountainside.

"Keep your eye on that mountain, right over there.." Comes Kylo's voice at her ear. He points at a spot on the windowpane. Gloved fingertip touching to the glass.