As the Hellsteed reached the outpost, Hutson and his companions boarded one by one. Their journey would take them first to the Crimson Mountains, the easternmost border of Moonlight Woodland. Beyond that, the land was no longer under their dominion.
Stepping down from the carriage, Hutson gazed at the vast, unbroken stretch of crimson peaks ahead. The terrain was rugged, the rocks soft and dyed a deep red. Among the cliffs and ridges, fiery maple trees flourished, painting the landscape in a sea of scarlet every autumn.
The Hellsteed, having finished its journey, trotted over to a nearby trough, greedily pulling at the fresh grass before gulping down mouthfuls of water. Satiated, it stood in place, its hooves shifting restlessly as its dark eyes fixed upon the group.
Bessie stroked the creature's head. "Go on, little one. We won't need you for the next stretch."
