Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160726175355/@comment-28358106-20160730183443

Three days, Hound counts.

Three days they walk across the barren landscape. They travel at night by the stars and sleep during the day; despite the sun, the heat is tolerable, the days are short and the night is long. As soon as the sun goes down, the chill comes out, and their journey continues. Ibrahim says little as they travel, not venturing more than an occasional question. His mind seems to be more occupied the further they go.

On the day that Hound considers questioning their direction, he sees it. A dark, growing shape on the groumd of the horizon. After several hours, the ground begins to slope downwards, gradually down, until they find themselves in the bottom of a canyon, wide and sloped on both sides. No sounds save the wind and the rustling of dry brush can be heard. No animals make their home here.

They travel across the flat, dry riverbed, following it. The slopes of the sides of the canyon begin to turn upwards sharply, making walls. Nothing else changes, until they come to the end.

The canyon termimates into a high, flat grotto. A deep crevice in the wall of stone, shaped like a knife blade, dominates the rock face, reaching almost to the top of the canyon.

Ibrahim stops the horse. There is a lengthy pause as he looks ahead.

"This is it.  We're here," he says simply.