The weald was thick and it was very dark. Great sheets of moss hung from the branches like blankets hanging on lines to dry after washing. Where there was no moss, thick latticework of cobwebs filled in the spaces between trees and lower branches. Sybri and Wulfthred dismounted their horses and were leading them through the thicket that somehow managed to grow without the benefit of sunshine.
Until that moment they had not seen evidence of the web builders, but judging by the reluctance of the horses to go further into the comfortless forest, they were nearby. That evidence did not take long to appear, however.
From each cardinal direction they came, like an uncontrolled rash on the landscape. Their eerie chittering sent ice water down Bri's back but Wulf, as always unshaken, pushed his wife behind him. The young woman turned to place her back to his and the two prepared themselves for what was about to occur.
The Horselord ready with his greatsword, the Breelander with spear and sword with no time to spare, the eight legged colossuses swarmed the couple. Hairy legs of eight and beady eyed carapaces began to pile up around their boots. Sybri thought the battle was just about to end when her husband shrieked out so loudly it shook the dark tree limbs! She turned around toward him to see the fang of a beast more than ten times the size of the others, sinking into his chest. By quick thrust of her spear into the eyes of the abomination and luck being with her, Bri felled the beast. She dragged Wulf out from under it, terror being the source of her strength.
A steady stream of misty green vapor lifted from the puncture wound, Wulfthred was fading, and fast, there was nothing she could do. Tears poured like hot rivers down her cheeks and all her Love could keep saying was.. "It burns.. it burns..."
Bolting up in bed, Sybri's face was soaked with tears. In her disorientation of the new house, shaking but relieved it was only a dream, she carefully got out of bed and made her way to the fireplace to put on a kettle for tea. The young woman shrugged off the nightmare as part of getting used to the larger home and new bed her husband provided for her just days before. They would be needing a little more space now, or so he insisted.
Because of the dream itself, the crying, or the dryness of the air, perhaps, Bri's throat was dry, she was very thirsty. Her sickness never left her, there was no morning about it, so instead of her usual mead she opted for simple chamomile tea. Just as she reached across the hearth to hang the kettle, the wood plank door flew open and two elves and a woman helped Wulfthred into the house. Bri stopped breathing for a moment as she dropped the kettle to the floor the moment she saw her beloved husband and his charred skin.
