The Danya Winterborn Saga

52 pages, comb bound, cardstock covers

From "Danya Winterborn"

   Danya was about to go back to her sewing when Kestran leapt to his feet, raced to the door with a speed that belied his illness and his years, and charged though the shed and out into the storm, wearing nothing but his bedclothes. Danya threw down the vest and ran after him. "Kestran! Come back!" Within a couple of strides she had lost track not only of the Bard but also of the cottage. She staggered a few steps further, then panicked as a sense of fear and imminent loss seized her, chilling her far more than the wind-driven snow. "Kestran! Don't leave me! I don't want to be alone!"
   :Then you shan't,: a young man's voice declared. :I Choose you.:
   Danya's eyes widened at the sound of a stranger speaking in her head at the same time as she felt a surge of incredible joy that pushed aside her growing fear.
Something big and white loomed ahead of her, forcing its way through flurries of snow as it struggled to reach her side.    :Vanyel?: she ventured.
   Laughter cascaded through her mind. :Nothing so grand, I fear,: the young man's voice replied. :I'm Terrill-or as I am affectionately known to the stablehands in Haven "that idiot of a Companion who waited until half of Valdemar was covered by snow to go find his Chosen." Most importantly, I am one exceedingly weary and frozen horse. Do you mind if we go inside?: