Hurried foot steps pound through the undergrowth. Labored breathing
sounds loud against the silent background, as if it is the only sound in the
world. The woman looks over her shoulder, wild eyes searching. Her mouth
works, silently, as if she is speaking but without sound. A sound blossoms
from the silence and the wild eyes grow wide in fear. With a sudden rush,
she runs on, oblivious to the lashing of the branches. She trips and with
an acrobatic turn, she twists and falls upon the ground on her side, her
arms clutching a small bundle to her chest. She moves, oblivious of her
injuries, but before she regains her feet she is bowled over by a howling
dog.
Never losening her hold on the bundle, the woman works in silence, her feet
lashing out as the dog tries to gain a hold on her. With a heroic kick, the
dog yelps and backs off. She turns to run, but with the sudden sound of
hooves and soft sound, the world goes black.
The mind astride the horse looks down at the small figure, his face
blanketed by the night and his own hood. Putting his mace back in its
holder, he looks up and whistles softly. The dog that was bowled over,
walks over tongue lolling out to one side. As he reigns the horse around, a
sound makes him pause, pulling up. Looking down at the corpse, he swings
off the saddle and walks over, casually kicking over the corpse. The small
bundle moves softly and silently the man curses, shaking his head. Moving
swiftly, he picks up the small bundle and remounts his horse. Clicking his
tongue, still looking down into the small face within the bundle, the man
has a pensive look upon his face. "The bastard lied to me." He said in a
low voice, almost a growl. "Said it was a thief. Looks just like him.
We'll see what's what, I think." Turning his head and spitting, he clicks
his tongue again and the horse begins to move faster, into the soft gray of
the ever darkening forest.
Description:
Lank black hair, curly and disheveled, lays atop this mans head. His face is craggy, scarred and looks to be covered in a thin layer of dirt. The nose upon his face looks to have been broken often and his eyebrows are thick, as untamed looking as the hair upon his head. The mans shoulders are broad, his physique muscular and he moves with a strange sort of easy grace. Large hands flex and unflex as he moves by, his footsteps falling silently upon the ground as he commences his strange dance onwards.
