Find your gold, Willowmena,” the voice in the Great Horn of Gore decreed. “It is time. It must be done, and you must do it alone. It is a solitary journey.”
These were the last words Willowmena heard from the Horn, the only thing she had left of her dear frend Gore, the magnificent red-eyed rhinoceros. It had belonged to him while he lived. Now it was never out of her possession. It had all kinds of magical properties, both known and unknown, and it kept her company in its strange way. Sometimes she could even hear Gore speaking to her through his Horn.
So, in a way, she was not entirely alone as she trudged the dreary, relentless plain of Bleak, as long as she had The Horn. Not even her loyal dog Claw accompanied her, nor Tomas, the giant magical land tortoise. She had let them in Tune, the mountainous region of the Land of Bleak, with her friends who resided there, the Nornae. This quiet involves only me, she reminded herself staunchly. I would not put another in harm’s way. It’s the way it must be; it is done. There no going back. Besides, the prophecy has foretold it. This journey, she knew she had to make alone.
willowmenasquest
Houston, TX
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