Book Title: Around Smouldering Coals
Not far away, a river was flowing. Was that the Clusone? Or the Pelice? She had heard they were mighty powerful torrents, and when the wind shifted, Damaris listened to them crashing over the falls. Is that where they were heading? Did Pateras believe it was safer on the other side? If so, how would they get across?
Damaris stood on a high, flat place and gazed at the wild, tumbling water, the heavy clouds and the untamed wilderness stretching out below them. She felt achingly far from home and security while the wind whipped through her hair and clothes.
The thoughtful girl walked barefooted down to the others. Her sandals, as well as everyone else's, had long since worn out. The others were fighting to keep the tents from blowing away, so she joined in by bringing more rocks to anchor the corners. There was no point in unpacking the saddlebags tonight unless they wanted to get rid of their stuff by watching it sail off down the river. Stephanos clung to her all night long, he was so frightened, and Damaris didn't think she got a wink of sleep as the wind howled and shrieked through the canyon. Damaris rose early, almost before there was enough light to see, to survey the damage. It was still gusty out, but not enough to keep her cowering in the tent. She saw that her Pateras and Silas were already looking around. Some trees had been torn out by their roots, but none of them were close enough to their campsite to have been a danger.