The Faerie Woods [Knight Otu Judging]


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"The horses ... um ... won't be worth saving by the time we catch up. But if you really want to..." Gorefoot let's the thought trail off as he steps up, ready to help Persephone chase down her horse.

When Nars speaks up, Gorefoot nods in agreement.
 

Percy slumps forward, tears leaking from her eyes. "No. I don't suppose we can catch them. Fridly knows where they are, but can't get us there. Poor Gwendolyn. She was such a nice horse."

Percy will return indoors.
 

"Just horse. Can get another," Rodimus says to Persephone, furrowing his brow as he doesn't quite understand the princess' attachment to a particular horse.
 

Trimble crawls back into his bed wearilly, hoping for an opportunity to sleep. It soon gets dark, and the woods are quiet. What are you doing at this point?
 

Ishmael frowns at the dilemma, frustrated that he can do nothing about it. The worgs have made off with the horses, an oversight on his part that should've been guarded against.

"Dry thine eyes, Percy" he tries to console the Sorceress. "We shall avenge thine steed. The worgs shall not go unpunished"

"The worgs shall return soon, perhaps even tonight if not the next eve. What should we do about this?"
 



"I'll take a middle watch, if that's ok with you Ishmael. I won't be getting much sleep tonight anyway." Gorefoot mumbles. Then he goes inside and finds a warm place to curl up on the floor.
 

As the night gets dark, a low growling voice whispers to Rodimus out of the Darkness.

"Orc-blood. Shall we parley to mutual advantage? You stand between me and my prey, but you need not be prey to my pack yourself..."
 

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