To Run

The Shield

Uwu

How long has it been?

Lots of inspirations lately, I crave blood. Someone's been praying for an update I can feel it.

LOOP THE ABOVE MUSIC OR ELSE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RECAP

      Ravon hummed in agreement, lifting a hand and completing two motions as he gave the compass back. In moments, two human figures soared overhead, powerful wings pumping hard, lifting them effortlessly into the sky.

     I watched, grinning, wondering what it was like to have such freedom. Perhaps I would find out once the Valkyries had time to entertain such notions.

     "The needle has been wobbling lately but keeping up a steady arc. I predict we will cross his path soon enough; he's steadily heading northeast."

     "Hmph, I hope we don't run into him while we are galloping about like a circus. We'll need stealth."

     "Once the needle is straight ahead, we can travel on foot, can we not?"

     "If we haven't trampled right over him first." Ravon shot a smirk at me, and I rolled my eyes.

     "Very well. Let's send out scouts every morning and evening to circle ahead and look for signs of flight. If they manage to spot him, we'll travel cautiously from that point on, and begin tactics to surround him."

     "I like your thinking; I'll inform my warriors tonight."

     We were closing in...

END RECAP

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Shield

DAMON RIVERS' POV

     "...this matches the color of the compass."

     I was kneeling beside a patch of red, nestled in the hollow of a stone on the frozen forest floor. Blood... dark and inhuman.

       Beside me, Ravon's feathers rustled as he knelt, "Indeed... It seems our quarry isn't doing quite so well as I thought."

      Wind rattled branches solemnly above us, cold and piercing as it mourned. Breath fogged from our mouths, and the nostrils of our horses. Snow lined the ground in soft, delicate patches of white, glittering from the early morning sun. Being wounded in such weather... it couldn't have been pleasant.

      I tugged my hood lower, glancing in the direction the blood seemed to smear, "He fled... this way, not five hours ago."

      I glanced back, "But this drop beside it suggests he changed course... possibly due to fear of the blood marking his location."

     Ravon stood as well, nodding grimly. He sent a firm signal to two scouts, and they quickly shot into the air, heading in the aforementioned direction.

     "He's not... healing. Or flying, or teleporting... and I don't see signs that he's eaten," I glanced to Ravon, "Why?"

     Ravon frowned, heading back to his mount and swinging on, "I think... it's because Lord Notch can sense his power. If he refuses to use it, I've heard it's much harder to trace. In use, however... it creates a flare that will pinpoint his location - and sometimes his former locations - exactly."