The distant roar of the surf surged in the background, the only noise that could be heard beyond it was the whistling wind. Amal felt his muscles were as heavy and dense as iron, the aches along his body now an old friend. Beneath him, he felt soft earth and grass tickling his tanned body. In and out, he became aware of his breathing. Amal's sleep addled body stirred gingerly, and he couldn't quite grasp where he was or what had happened. All he knew is that he was cold. 

He suddenly felt a jolt of energy when the world came crashing back into his mind. He knew he couldn't rest until he knew whether or not Emmaline was safe or not. Willing his body to move, he pushed his chest and head up off the ground. Even lifting himself that much, he felt the wind's intensity increase tenfold. He lifted his eyes and saw trees in the foreground around a mile away before him. Rolling hills of the grass swept forwards until they reached the trees, but after that he saw nothing. 

He turned himself over and looked behind him. The thief almost yelped, his heart stricken when he saw the cliff edge just a meter away from the soles of his feet. He didn't peek over the edge, but it looked almost a mile in the air above the churning sea waters far below. He scrambled further inland away from the cliff face only to find his hand grabbed something soft and warm. Squeezing, he realized he had grabbed Emmaline's rump. "Emm!" He cried, pulling himself over her and turning her body over. Thank Ranald and Allah above, she was still breathing! 

"Emmaline, wake up..." He called to her as softly as he could past the rising wind. Across a low swell of the land, the mast lay strewn in ruin. Beneath the fabric, Amal saw a man-shaped figure poking out. Scrambling to move the sail, once there was a hole in the fabric, sir Brenly's head popped out. Amal thought he had a grumpy way about him before, but the elder northman had an utterly miserable expression on his face. The Arabyan couldn't blame him. Even finding out they were all alive, they had somehow wound up in a cold, unforgiving land. What's more, he suddenly felt it beginning to rain. Just a drop here or there before it began to steadily shower. By Allah it was freezing! If this was Emmaline's land then she was made of sterner stuff than himself. 

A fluttering was evident about him and he thought some of the sail had been torn off. Instead the carpet flew by, presenting itself in its full exciteable glory before flattening out to be ridden. Amal smiled, somewhat relieved. Maybe they could find some shelter somehow in the forest. 
[@Penny]