Winter 48, 515
The Wildlands, Kabrin Road
14th Bell
The storm of hoofbeats against the frozen ground rattled the bones of Knight and Drykas, nearly drowning out the high pitched bark of dogs hot on a scent. Maisa's muscles rippled underneath Anja's hands, the strength of will harmonizing between the pair into an unstoppable force. It was time. Finally it was time. Not even the howls of the dogs or the thunder of hooves could quiet the tempest raging in Anja's heart.
The dogs were fast, but they could only keep so swift of a pace. Maisa and Vanguard kept just at their tails, both ready to surge to full speed the moment that their target came in sight. Anja's breath rattled in his chest and adrenaline surged through his veins. He and his Strider were so connected he might as well have been riding in her skin with her. Her muscles, her bones and her breath were all his.
As the forest thinned Logan shouted something, but Anja couldn't hear it through the din of dogs, horses, and his own hammering heart. The frozen ground dipped suddenly, and Maisa skidded to a stop to compensate, nearly throwing Anja over her head in the process. The thick evergreen forests that the dogs and horses had been weaving through parted to reveal a small clearing surrounded by trees. As he righted himself on Maisa's back, the scent of smoke and charred meat hit the back of Anja's throat. He gagged, throwing his inner elbow over his mouth and fighting the urge to retch. It was the same smell from those six months ago. Visions and sounds of smoking pavillion and the screams of the wounded and dying filled his senses, overlapping with the scene present before his eyes.
The corpse of a woman lay slumped over an overturned log, her eyes wide and vacant as she stared up at the sky. Part of her chest had been blown apart and was charred black from the fire. The campsite was peppered with scorch marks, and two dead horses lay side by side. The camp stunk of death, and a mournful harmony rattled in Anja's ears forcing him still.
Anja jumped when Logan set a hand on his back. "Can you keep it together?" the man asked softly. "I need your help." Weakly, Anja nodded and slid from Maisa's back. He reached a hand to brush Maisa's shoulder, and she touched her nose to his chest with a reassuring nicker. The Drykas could feel the tension thrumming beneath her skin, but as he stepped towards the camp he felt his strider right at his heels, head at his back. Her breath beat against his back to remind him of her constant presence.
Honey and Sergeant ran into the camp at Logan's command, noses to the ground. The Knight followed, picking at the sparse remains surrounding them. He knelt beside a pack of charred belongings, slowly pulling them apart, a deep frown forming on his features. "He destroyed their supplies," the man said. "It's hard to tell but...this amount of supplies, two horses. I'd say it was a pair travelling together, wouldn't you?"
(Words 521, Total 521)
The Wildlands, Kabrin Road
14th Bell
The storm of hoofbeats against the frozen ground rattled the bones of Knight and Drykas, nearly drowning out the high pitched bark of dogs hot on a scent. Maisa's muscles rippled underneath Anja's hands, the strength of will harmonizing between the pair into an unstoppable force. It was time. Finally it was time. Not even the howls of the dogs or the thunder of hooves could quiet the tempest raging in Anja's heart.
The dogs were fast, but they could only keep so swift of a pace. Maisa and Vanguard kept just at their tails, both ready to surge to full speed the moment that their target came in sight. Anja's breath rattled in his chest and adrenaline surged through his veins. He and his Strider were so connected he might as well have been riding in her skin with her. Her muscles, her bones and her breath were all his.
As the forest thinned Logan shouted something, but Anja couldn't hear it through the din of dogs, horses, and his own hammering heart. The frozen ground dipped suddenly, and Maisa skidded to a stop to compensate, nearly throwing Anja over her head in the process. The thick evergreen forests that the dogs and horses had been weaving through parted to reveal a small clearing surrounded by trees. As he righted himself on Maisa's back, the scent of smoke and charred meat hit the back of Anja's throat. He gagged, throwing his inner elbow over his mouth and fighting the urge to retch. It was the same smell from those six months ago. Visions and sounds of smoking pavillion and the screams of the wounded and dying filled his senses, overlapping with the scene present before his eyes.
The corpse of a woman lay slumped over an overturned log, her eyes wide and vacant as she stared up at the sky. Part of her chest had been blown apart and was charred black from the fire. The campsite was peppered with scorch marks, and two dead horses lay side by side. The camp stunk of death, and a mournful harmony rattled in Anja's ears forcing him still.
Anja jumped when Logan set a hand on his back. "Can you keep it together?" the man asked softly. "I need your help." Weakly, Anja nodded and slid from Maisa's back. He reached a hand to brush Maisa's shoulder, and she touched her nose to his chest with a reassuring nicker. The Drykas could feel the tension thrumming beneath her skin, but as he stepped towards the camp he felt his strider right at his heels, head at his back. Her breath beat against his back to remind him of her constant presence.
Honey and Sergeant ran into the camp at Logan's command, noses to the ground. The Knight followed, picking at the sparse remains surrounding them. He knelt beside a pack of charred belongings, slowly pulling them apart, a deep frown forming on his features. "He destroyed their supplies," the man said. "It's hard to tell but...this amount of supplies, two horses. I'd say it was a pair travelling together, wouldn't you?"
(Words 521, Total 521)