Melihrene galloped eastward, beyond the scanty evergreen wood, into a lush, tropical greenwood. The threshold between these woodlands perpetuated a foreshadowing but invisible fog; felt but unseen. With each eastward hoof stamp, the crisp and cool air of the early morning heated incrementally, like the stagnant water in a soup pot. The environment grew mysteriously hot and humid. The horse’s mane and tail frizzed. Uuinora’s dampened clothes clung to her skin. The leather patches of her armor sweltered. These would have sunburned her bluish skin, if there had not been a cotton suit between her armor and her Elvish hide…