Derek slowed his pace and began waving his torch. Shaking his head, Derek sprinted his way towards the squawking abomination, but his journey was soon interrupted by a short, black shadow jogging towards him. Finally, he heard what he was really listening for – someone’s truly godawful impression of a Keltese raven. The lapping sound of the nearby Lake Ryone became slightly louder as a minute or two of travel passed by. A light drizzle began to fall, cool and pattering. Derek swore like a drugged sailor as passing branches tried to start a fight with his head and/or steal his flaming torch as he pushed ahead into the woods. He gripped it in a calloused fist as he leapt off his seat and headed on foot in the rough direction of the unnatural blast of air pressure. In seconds, the scruffy man had flint-and-tindered a lit torch into being. “Grip your biscuits, Cudgel, it’s just Keiri!” ![]() Cudgel whinnied and readied herself to take Derek on a fun adventure into some nearby thorn bushes, but a single tug on the reins was enough of a discouragement. At least two flocks of birds scattered to his left. “A bit more’n we’ll be geein’ you up right square.”Īnd right then: whooooOOOO OOMPPHH. “Can’t be long now, Cudgel.” Derek said in a warm, accented drawl. Every so often she huffed her displeasure at their current environment, but a click from Derek’s tongue was enough to keep things from escalating into all-out equine rebellion. In front of the rickety wooden chair Derek was currently slouched in, Cudgel the Mare stood morosely, pawing at the damp undergrowth with her hoof. He wore a black trench coat a good size too big for him, and his tunic and pants looked like they had fallen through a cheese grater factory at some point in their unabashedly long lifespan. A mop of frizzy black hair flopped all over his face, as if trying to hide its owner’s crooked nose, sunken eyes, and double chin. He repeated his cry of triumph, but this time in a hushed whisper and with a schoolboy grin. ![]() “Yuh yuh, still got it!” he cheered out loud, before cringing as if rebuked by a strict teacher. The forest darkness eagerly swallowed the stone before it even approached the height of its parabola, but not even the darkness could stop him hearing a definitive splash, far off in the distance. Part Six – Of A Bald Man On A Black Throneĭerek drew back his muscular arm and threw yet another stone with everything he had.
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