Post by Mary McCall on Feb 21, 2013 23:09:04 GMT -6
the rumble of hundreds of hooves shook the ground. Along with his brothers, he pulled his sword and attempted to block the women from the direction of the possible threat.
“Do you think they know they are insulting us?” Medea asked.
“Doubtful,” Madeline replied. “You know how thick-headed my Highlander is.”
“You may put away your blades,” The Sophia said. “None will harm us on Macpherson land. This is most likely Artair and I expect him.”
A few moments later, the rumbling stopped and Artair Macpherson swaggered into the glen. His golden hair and amber eyes glowed in the afternoon sun. “I thought this meeting was set for the morrow,” he said, then stopped short, eying the swords. “Do they not know they are insulting you?”
“Do you think they know they are insulting us?” Medea asked.
“Doubtful,” Madeline replied. “You know how thick-headed my Highlander is.”
“You may put away your blades,” The Sophia said. “None will harm us on Macpherson land. This is most likely Artair and I expect him.”
A few moments later, the rumbling stopped and Artair Macpherson swaggered into the glen. His golden hair and amber eyes glowed in the afternoon sun. “I thought this meeting was set for the morrow,” he said, then stopped short, eying the swords. “Do they not know they are insulting you?”