Her scent was the warning of arrival. A smile plucked at the corners of his mouth moments before the pressure of her hand touched his back. Pride swelled deep as he answered her question, “This is Iceland. I am sorry if I was hard to find. I usually awaken here. It’s hard to leave.”
He turned from the cliff, a human barrier between an endless drop and sure footing. “Let me show you,” he said with a wolfish smile, then gripped her hand in his as the running began.
A streak of fire sparked like lightning. Green grasses turned to black sands beneath their feet. He showed Sierra the crackling glaciers and the rugged mountains. Waterfalls taller than skyscrapers sprayed mist upon their bare skin. Finally, at the northern-most point of the world, he stopped. Rock slicker than marble and twisted as dancing flame jut upward from crashing waves. At their back was an enormous wall of round columns, impossibly precise as though carved by the hands of the gods themselves. Black sand squished beneath their feet. Tristan paused, pointing out into the sea where the twisted one was frozen forever.
"See it?" he asked, waiting. The column was ancient and the one within slumbered many generations before Tristan was born. Yet wrongness tensed the air if he focused on it.
He turned from the cliff, a human barrier between an endless drop and sure footing. “Let me show you,” he said with a wolfish smile, then gripped her hand in his as the running began.
A streak of fire sparked like lightning. Green grasses turned to black sands beneath their feet. He showed Sierra the crackling glaciers and the rugged mountains. Waterfalls taller than skyscrapers sprayed mist upon their bare skin. Finally, at the northern-most point of the world, he stopped. Rock slicker than marble and twisted as dancing flame jut upward from crashing waves. At their back was an enormous wall of round columns, impossibly precise as though carved by the hands of the gods themselves. Black sand squished beneath their feet. Tristan paused, pointing out into the sea where the twisted one was frozen forever.
"See it?" he asked, waiting. The column was ancient and the one within slumbered many generations before Tristan was born. Yet wrongness tensed the air if he focused on it.