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Message: <blockquote data-quote="lostdreamer" data-source="post: 2818510" data-attributes="member: 40210">Each footfall felt like a hammer blow going through his legs, his breath short and ragged. Black bags hung heavy under his brown eyes and his tan boots were caked with miles of dust and dirt. The bright silk shirt clung to his back in shredded ribbons, its former majesty long lost on thorns and overhanging branches. There was a sheen of blood on his skin, glowing like sweat on a summer’s afternoon. A man renowned for being tireless and graceful, there were few people on earth who would recognise him now as exhaustion had eaten into his arms, legs and head. He was a long way away, but he knew where he was going, he knew why, and he knew he had to continue.The thought that he may fail did not enter the mind of Panuel Mitrovich.------------------------------------------------Silence hung in the air for just a moment, sharp and clear. The sun was to the back of the new arrivals, casting their faces into heavy shadow as they climbed from their mounts. It was what was not said at that moment that should be remembered. Jehan returned with a fey wife and his lopsided smile. But there was someone who had left that same morning as him, and was not there. For just the few moments, nobody said ‘hello’, nobody said ‘welcome back’. And everyone knew why.Oransay stopped fighting at her trace and just stood there staring.Jehan turned to look at the group gathered around the camp. His hand had rested in Talia’s for longer than had been necessary to help her from that night-black horse.“Are you all alright?” He asked.</blockquote>

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