No word count; but you can only write a single sentence in any one post (using, if necessary, whatever punctuation you desire provided only that you stop when you come to a full stop: or, as the Americans call it for some unfathomable reason, a period).
The sun was shining, briefly, in Fort William that morning; but by early afternoon the clouds had rolled in, Ben Nevis could no longer bee seen, and a steady drizzle dampened the summer air.
No one said he could be found here, but James knew tracking him this short distance wouldn't be hard.
This being the West Highlands, however, the rain didn't hold back for long; and James was soon regretting his decision not to take his Umbrella as he trudged through the howling wind and driving rain past the distillery in the direction of Spean Bridge.
James' dog Spirit lunged ahead following the scent while James tripped over the brush and fallen branches that Spirit easily jumped over.
For in the life of this particular Spirit; with reputation of misfortune, reliability, went hand in hand with expectation.
Rain started to pour from the sky and James had to give up on finding the bee keeper for now, so he just made a sandwich and snacked while waiting for the storm to calm down.