***
Master Khofi had a horse arranged for Adaria, except it wasn’t just any horse.
“This is Mithral,” he told her as they stood just outside Danestia, ready to head to Daramount. “He is the last of the breed of Silvertails. They are the fastest horses in the world, and they can run for days on end. A noble horse such as this should be ridden by a noble Queen such as yourself.”
“I am no Queen,” Adaria said as she patted the horse gently. His hide was pure white, almost painfully so. His mane shone in the sunlight, and every movement he made seemed graceful and poised. When she looked into his eyes, there was a calmness in them which seemed to resonate in her. And she was grateful for that.
They set out immediately, and Adaria led the pack with seventy five druids behind her, and Nero
