6
Redmond strode out the front of Frostmore and whistled sharply. Devil bounded into view and joined him outside as a groom brought his horse forward. The white Arabian mare, Winter’s Frost, was his favorite. Many men favored stallions or geldings, but not Redmond. He had purchased her after burying his wife and brother, and her gentle spirit and exceptional speed were a balm to his soul. He rode her for miles, especially when the weather was fair, and it helped him feel like he was escaping his sorrows, if only for a little while.
As he mounted her and rode out across the lands of his home, he watched the fall leaves turn from gold to brittle brown, a sure sign that winter was on the way. The promise of snow was carried upon the wind, its bite bringing Redmond’s thoughts more clearly in
