They struck out for the territories. Lured by free tracts of fertile land and the freedom to live as they pleased.
Fifty solid citizens set out from the cities. Packing the things they needed, and little of what they loved. Their leader, a soft-spoken, but charismatic man, stood before their caravans on that first morning.
“Adventure, friends,” he said, looking into the eyes of those before him. “Must grow in the heart. So that when the inevitable troubles of travel occur, we have reason to push on.”
He set off, chasing the shadow the rising sun cast before his feet.
Prompt courtesy of the Daily Post.
(Also, that’s 31 stories for 31 days in March.)