To Walk

Hunting Him

I REALLY need to rewrite the first chapters...gOodness...

AAGHH this UpdAte iS sO long ovErduuue pLEase enjoy and VoTe!

RECAP

          In the end, it was decided that Roarn, Candra, Jasher, and Soren would go. Five, there were only five of us, and many of us bore harsh wounds. As night fell, cold and dark, I sat near the fire, mulling over our options. In my travels, I'd talked to may people and many traders. Some had spoken of incredible drinks that could heal wounds faster than any had ever thought possible. Potions, they'd called them. It was rare to get them, and expensive, as many of their ingredients came from the deadly Nether dimension, a place of fire and poisonous air. I sighed, there were no towns nearby, and we had to leave before the trail grew cold. We would just have to deal with our wounds and hope that HE was the weaker, perhaps we could lure him into a trap...

          I dozed off, slumped against a log, plans and possibilities and hopes whirling about in my head.

END RECAP

DAMON RIVERS' POV

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          It was quiet. Besides the squeaking of leather saddles, the snorting of horses, and the crunch of twigs and leaves under hooves, it was quiet. No talking was necessary, and each member of my severely reduced team was wrapped up in their own thoughts. Thoughts of sorrow and fear and anger.

          It was late in the day. We had gotten up before the sun rose to pack supplies and had left with quiet goodbyes. A cool, nipping breeze rustled the branches of oak and birch overhead, but the setting sun kept us warm. Large clouds often blocked out the sun, signaling rain or snow soon. We had been following the rapidly drying pools and splatters of blood left by the demon since morning. Strangely, no undead seemed to have even touched the puddles, as there were no smears. Thus far, thank Notch, the deep red pools never veered from their course.

          A course straight for the Eastern mountains.

          All of us were stiff and saddle-sore, our wounds doubling the number of aches and pains. However, that could not be helped. We would all be severely weakened by the time we found wherever he'd gone. Hopefully, he would still be injured, and we would be able to crush him.

          I was consumed with thoughts of revenge and uncertainty, so much so that I barely noticed the sun begin to set. Would he hide in a cave? A place so deep we could never find him? Perhaps he had traps set up already, traps that would kill us before we could even get to him.

          "Sir?"

          I jumped slightly, jerking my head up and meeting Roarn's gaze. His dark brows were furrowed, "Damon, we need to find shelter, the undead will have an easier time scenting us with our injuries, out in the open like this."

          I blinked, shook my head, "A-apologies...yes." Nudging my horse a little farther ahead of the others, I rose up in my stirrups and scanned around. There was a clearing ahead, one with a slight overhang of rocks and dirt. Perfect, there was even a river before it, enough to fend off spiders. I lowered myself back down into the saddle with a grunt, "Ahead, we'll stop there."

           The others nodded, each spurring their horses a little faster, splashing through a shallow space in the river. Soon, a camp had been pitched, and a low fire burned, cooking our dinner. Roarn was on watch on top of the slight overhang, and the others sat around, gazing listlessly into the fire. They remained silent the entire time, with only a few murmurs of thanks as food was handed to them, or as someone helped change a difficult bandage. Morale was low, but I was resolved to allow them to work through their sorrows before I attempted encouragement, as it could crush their resolve if I gave them false hope.