The Nomad
As he anchored his longship ashore,
He relished the sight of the horizon, where rugged cliffs thrusts beyond, the cotton clouds filled the blank blue skies.
He felt the wave of the currents crash against, drenching him and his feet in every step of the way—the smell of salt rusted the air.
Over the hills and far away, the red-orange glow of the dawn was slowly swallowed by the sea.
The longship rocked back and forth—white sails flapped against the whispering breeze.
"I am far from home." The Nomad said.
He knew the expedition is all but nought. He reached the Nameless Land, the Land of No Return.?
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