Priestsic6

I soon lost the recollections of fear I had in the village as we wound our way into the mountains. As I travelled among the snow white road, the horrible smell of branches and old oak rotting sends a shiver down my spine. The cart began to slow down as the wheels began to get stuck in the thick brown mud and the terrible wind slapping on my pale face. Then I heard the wind howl beetween the branches of the dead trees.The dead trees seem to shape over the coach, rats and mice will skutter to the warm comfortable nests. As I gazed out of the window the mountain tops glistened with the jagged snow.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 29th, 2006 at 1:26 pm Filed under Dracula, Ebony, Class and. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.