The Peace

The sun shone down on them, warm and bright under cloudless sky as they crossed the open field. Tall grass wavered gently in the wind, which carried the scents of wildflowers interspersed across the plain. The wagon tracks they traveled were the only place in sight where the grass did not stand waist high, surrounded as they were by a sea of green and gold, interspersed with colored fragrant blooms. They halted. Anya smiled slightly, standing on tip-toes to see as far as she could. Rosalyn leaned on Argen’s shoulder and sighed. A moment of peace and beauty was welcome.