A Tangled Web We Weave (IC)

[Ifni]

"Heh. I suppose I can moan and contort myself into strange twisted shapes if it makes you feel better, Lord Saram..."

The sun sinks behind the mountains, for a short time filling the valley with red-gold and violet light, gilding the snow-capped peaks. After that the group continues for a while in the steadily darkening twilight, before Branch says "We should probably dismount at this point."

When Saram Zen slides down from the saddle, his legs feel like jelly. Walking is an exercise in teeth-gritting. At first it is pleasant to reduce the strain on muscles much-abused by the long ride, but then they begin to stiffen up.

The air grows swiftly colder, as above the valley the stars come out, glittering frostily in the clear blue-black sky. The ponies' breath, and their riders', forms clouds of white steam in the air.

Branch calls a halt at one point, to rub the ponies' legs; he takes pity on Harp and Zen, and suggests a brief martial arts practice while he works on the animals. The familiar stretches do help, somewhat.

The five miles to Whitetree feel longer, but eventually the group walks - or hobbles - into the village, built on both sides of the road. It looks like a prosperous little town, at first glance; the houses look in good repair, and there are signs out for various businesses. The buildings have sharply sloped roofs, and are set close together, sprawling out from the road without much evidence for town planning. Groves of silver aspens surround the town, likely explaining its name.

There are not many people out on the streets; the exceptions are dressed in warm-looking coats and hats, mostly of dyed wool. Several of them glance curiously at the travelers - some look away hurriedly on seeing Saram Zen, while others stare for a moment longer before respectfully lowering their eyes.

The inn is close to the road; a wooden board out the front is carved with small symbols - a plate, a mug, a bed - likely aimed at the illiterate. It is a square stone building, with the characteristic sloped roof; the courtyard is planted with beds of flowers, and holds a stone water-trough. Lamplight shines from within.

"Give me the reins and I'll take the ponies to get a drink," Branch offers. "If you two want to go arrange rooms?"