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 Posted: Sun Nov 10, 2013 9:16 pm
Where had the time gone? Sunny asked herself this as she saddled up her trusty steed just outside the market. Arley snorted and flicked his tail seemingly annoyed that they were out and about this late. Unfortunately there had been too many errands to run and Sunny had lost track of time in her scramble to accomplish everything.
“That a boy. Lets just tighten this a wee bit more.” The stable hand told her horse as she tugged at the ropes that kept the bagged goods together.
Warm rays of sunlight barely clung to the hills in the distance. Orange and red-washed clouds marked where the orb of light had fallen but the comforting colors wouldn’t last the ride home. Soon darkness would envelope the land and Sunny would be on her own finding home.
Why had she been so foolish? She muttered and grumbled about the situation as she climbed up and began the ride back with Arley. Too busy fretting over the time and packing everything up, Sunny didn’t notice a pair of men watching. And she certainly didn’t see them grab their own horses and follow after when she was just the right distance to tail.
It was a quiet ride as darkness swept over and claimed the last bit of light for itself. Sunny, worried and fearful, did her best to keep Arley from stumbling over debris on the route but it was proving to be a challenge to do at night. Just as Arley was climbing over what looked like a log two figures raced by them.
Sunny clutched at the reigns as her horse, now terribly spooked, began to buck and rear up. “Whoa Arley! Whoa!” The lass ordered as she tried to calm him down while staying on his back. As she struggled to maintain balance and control, the black forms used this as their chance to double back and start circling the rider.
Dread bubbled and boiled in Sunny’s stomach as Arley calmed and she was faced with two men and their horses. At this hour, and using such a predatory tactic, the stable hand knew they were bandits. Never before had she dealt with them but the stories told by victims…brr..they were shiver-inducing. What was she supposed to do against them? Neither one had uttered a word yet but it was obvious she was in trouble. Hopefully, they only wanted to take the goods she just bought. Which were the whole reason she was out at this hour in the first place…
Sunny took a deep breath, hoping some fresh air would stop her body from its sudden case of the shakes. But the closer the riders got the worse she felt. Maybe she should throw them a bag? Give them something and just run. Or perhaps barrel into the darkness with Arley and hope they didn’t stumble over something. Whatever choice she was going to make, the young woman needed to make it and fast.
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 6:16 pm
"My goodness, does the market not just look a staggering beauty in the darkness? Such beauty everywhere in the moonlight, with the torches giving kisses of color to it all -- does it not all seem very romantic to you, my dear Grimm? I daresay that it does, although I know you will not admit it to me." Cyril said, lounging on his guardian's shoulder, his cape flipped over his shoulder as he looked pleasantly around himself. The marketplace was emptying and many of the tents and stalls were beginning to close, their fronts darkened and their wares packed. There ere only a few others out in the night -- a few backwoodsman that looked rather like his Grimm, and a pleasant-looking girl with a steed to match.
Cyril sat up on Darius' shoulders as he saw her. What a lovely-looking thing, and what a handsome pair they made! If only he could interest Darius in looking at her, as well. How pleasing her hair looked in the moonlight. How graceful her motions! The plague sighed."Are there not things you simply love to watch in this nighttime hour?"
He looked down, and was surprised to see Darius looking the same direction. His too-bright wolf eyes were slitted and focused, alighted clearly on the woman.
A curved smile spread over Cyril's face.
"Oh, but I see you have seen her, as well!" said the plague, with a note of pride in his voice. "But she IS rather fetching, is she not?"
For the first time, his guardian spoke. His voice, low and gravelly as always, was sunk so low that the dagger strained to hear it. "Not so fetching as those bags."
"Hm?" Cyril squinted his eyes as he attempted to see anything alluring about the woman's bags, leaning forward and clutching Darius' shoulder for support. They seemed like... bags in his view, but he was certain there must be SOMETHING special about them --- but suddenly his opportunity to view them was cut off, as his guardian ducked behind a tent and made his way through a back alley, moving with purpose and urgency.
"Wait!" Cyril gasped. "I didn't get to see--"
"Quiet." hissed Darius, moving more swiftly now, his footfall silent on the pathway. He grabbed onto a brick wall and swung onto a tree, creeping on the branches. "You will."
From his shoulder, Cyril could see the horse and its lady rider coming back into view. Only, they were not alone -- they were joined by a guard! No, wait, that wasn't a guard... what were those men DOING? They were spinning around her, confusing her steed --- wait --
"HEY!" Cyril yelled, his ghostly voice full of indignation.
One of the riders turned toward the sound, his scarred face a nightmare of pockmarks.
Darius' boot crashed into his nose as he swung down from the tree, adding another scar.
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