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━━━━━━━𝐈 ━━━━━━━
The icy grey sky restlessly grumbled, sending an out pour in the woodlands. The sound of emptiness was disrupted by the loud gregarious boom of thunder, clashing with the screams and shrieks from the people of Kovir. The cold icy rain pierced her pale skin, but it was the mare that was most bothered, neighing raucously beside her.
❝Apologies, Luna, for dragging you into this,❞ she muttered, tugging it close when the rainfall intensified. The harsh rain obliterated the crystal reflection of the sky and turned it into an disorientated chaos. Thick icy sheets of rain obscured Estella's vision. The gods had picked a prime time to cry.
She looked around, hoping to find shelter for the night, but all she could find was a shack by the end of the hill. She felt a glimmer of hope. ❝Come, Luna.❞ She led the horse to the small shed where they saw nothing but a burned out lamp and a pile of damp haystack. Crooked and close to corroding, it appeared to be abandoned, and yet it was much better than any town tavern that held vile humans that put a target on her head. ❝Well, welcome home.❞ She watched the horse drop down onto the hay, shuffling around to find a comfortable position to doze off on. Estella found herself smiling. She sat by a corner and kept her eyes on her only companion, but then they grew heavy, slowly shutting, taking her into a whole new realm where she was safe.
━━━━━━━𝐈𝐈 ━━━━━━━
Cold.
For a moment, she thought that the rain managed to seep through the shack's frail roof and trickled down onto her skin. It caused her to shiver, even though she was never really one to feel it. She felt a droplet of rain land onto her forehead, as well as her cheek, then her breasts. That woke her from her slumber. Eyes part open to see a mop of dirty blonde hair hovering over her.
❝Magnus?❞ the blonde croaked out. She brought a hand up to rub jer eyes, hoping that her vision would clear up. ❝You found me...❞ But when it did, she realized that the man leaning over her wasn't Magnus. He wasn't even a man at all. He was just a boy.
As if it were a reflex, Estella quickly grabbed the nearest object she could find which in her case, quite unfortunately, was a pencil, and raised it against his neck. She pressed it hard enough for him to feel the pressure, but light enough that it wouldn't cause any real damage.
❝Who are you?❞ she demanded.
The boy, who looked roughly around the age of seventeen, raised his arms in the air. ❝Woah, woah, woah! Relax, miss, I'm just trying to help,❞ he said with a gulp.
Estella's eyes narrowed. She kept the pencil against his throat, seeing if he'd crack, but the boy didn't budge. He kept his arms in the air even when Estella lowered the pencil.
