Honeyed Pasture for thou shalt not be cured

@Blackjaw

The coast held little of interest for the pious wanderer, and he was tempted inland by the way the light crept through the billowing clouds overhead; it was like the Lord was guiding him away from the cacophonous symphony of crashing waves for his own good. He found himself striding through a field of vibrant greens soon enough, and the undulation of the pasture spread out all around him. It was awe-inspiring, and Gilead looked to the heavens with a crooked grin on his dark snout as he gave thanks; surely the Lord had led him to this holy space for good reason.

There were imperious mountains in the distance, and as they rose they stabbed at the sky and vanished among the clouds and mist. The boy paused and observed this — and then, he felt a tiny fleck of something touch his cheek. As he turned his attention to the space directly overhead, a spitting shower began, and he let out a sigh as the rain grew in strength. If this was a test by his Lord he would surely succeed at finding a resolution; he had been brought to this place for a reason and no ill weather would counter that purpose, he was certain. But as he began to march across the grassland he found that the rain had grown in intensity, and soon the sky was a moody gray — and Gilead felt mildly irritated that the Darkness would try to taint these holy hours with its tricks.