HBird113

Scattered clouds floated across the moon one night, casting broken shadows over the ancient island of Terirwen. Dry leaves cracked under the feet of people in a line. They held their torches bravely, waiting. Anticipation hummed in the air. If one listened closely, you could hear the ominous undertones of quiet chanting as the people marched solemnly onward. Forest slowly gave way to plains, undergrowth became soft grass. A large hill rose from the ground, hidden in its own shadow. The people continued up its slope. Finally, a rushing noise was heard. From the top of the hill, everyone saw a faint shimmering of black and silver. It was a rive