2016-07-09 11:48:36 am by
ThieryW in category Lifestyle
I finished saddling Hafoc, my war tarn, checking the straps and buckles of the worn tarn saddle. Everything is worn this trip. There was something comfortable and familiar about that.
Turning, I see the tarn keeper hide a yawn with his right hand. He then comments on the coolness of the early, still dark, the two moons shining in the sky. I shrug and say...