Rural Countryside

Elowen’s bare feet moved silently across the dewy grass as she guided her flock through the misty morning air. The sheep meandered contentedly, their soft bleats mingling with the gentle tinkling of bells. At her side trotted Finn, his keen eyes scanning for any stragglers. As they crested a hill, Elowen paused, her gaze drawn to the sprawling manor house in the distance. Its stone walls and imposing towers stood in stark contrast to the humble cottages of her village nestled in the valley below. A shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the early morning chill. ...

Eliza squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun as she pulled her rental car onto the dusty gravel driveway. The old farmhouse loomed before her, its weathered clapboards a faded gray in the harsh light. She put the car in park and sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel as she took in the overgrown yard and sagging porch. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and stepped out into the sweltering heat. The crunch of gravel under her sensible flats seemed unnaturally loud in the still air. As she approached the house, movement caught her eye - a flash of orange darting through the tall grass beside the porch. A stray cat, no doubt. The place was probably crawling with vermin after sitting empty for so long. ...

The elderberry bushes stood like silent sentinels in the early morning mist, their branches heavy with clusters of deep purple fruit. Mara Thorne moved between the rows with practiced efficiency, her calloused hands gently testing the berries for ripeness. The farm had been in her family for generations, and she knew every inch of it like the lines on her own weathered face. As she neared the far end of the field, Mara’s steps slowed. Something wasn’t right. The bushes here looked different - leaves curled and discolored, berries shriveled and pale. Her stomach clenched as she bent to examine them more closely. ...