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Weekly Contest #274
A heavy fog had carpeted the entire valley all the way up to the vertiginous cliffs, rolling off of the rocky precipice and into the tumult of the Atlantic Ocean. It was a brisk autumn morning in the quaint village of Nazare, and this year the biting cold and gray of winter had descended upon the coast early. However, a strong and noble man like Dom Fuas could withstand a little cold and wind for the sake of a good hunt. Especially in his richly furred cape and overcoat, he thought. He quickly glanced back at his huntsmen and dogs, both shiv...
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