Out of the frying pan…

One of these days, you know. One of these days Alexis might actually be allowed to fully recover from her injuries before she got the next crazy bullshit thrown at her. Not right now, clearly.

Her ever-present collection of bruises let her firmly know how exactly they felt about a full day of forced ride while she could feel some blood dribble lazily down her back from the not quite healed cuts, as her maltreated palms ached with the death grip she had on the reigns of her horse.

Grimly she kept her horse close to Wim’s, securing the badly wounded lord as best as she could while keeping up their murderous pace.

As day turned into dusk, the trail itself became their enemy, growing shadows hiding treacherous fissures, never more than one misstep away from a devastating fall or a broken horse leg to lead them to their doom.

Still, they raced on, because there was nothing else they could do.

Islana, Hunter…
The thought of their friends left to an unknown fate haunted Alexis just as much as the homicidal warband hard on their heels.
But for now all they could do was survive.

And pray… for themselves as well as for those apart.