Her arms crossed and lips pouted, Ray reluctantly followed him through the narrow outskirts of the village.
The early morning air stirred his long black hair, making it sway like a living shadow around his face.
She scowled at the sight, trying not to notice how the sunlight caught the golden earrings at his ears.
"It's so hot," she complained, shielding her blue eyes with a hand.
"I'm sorry I can't control the weather, so you'll have to deal with it," he snapped, not even glancing at her.
She crossed her arms tighter, keeping pace as he moved with fluid confidence through the narrow alleys. Her feet stumbled over uneven stones, but he never slowed.
"Remind me again why I'm following you?" she bit back, irritation sharpening her words.
"Because I know the way," he answered without hesitation. "Without me, you'd be captured before you even entered the village."
"Ahhh, that's right," she scoffed, turning her gaze away from him.
He said nothing. She noticed, not for the first time, that he never asked questions, never lingered over her explanations. That he simply assumed control, as if instinctively, and expected obedience. Was he insane? she wondered.
The silence stretched, oppressive in the empty alleys. She broke it. "What's your name?
For a brief moment, she thought she saw his back shudder.
"Why?" he asked, voice low.
"Well, I told you mine. This is how people introduce themselves," she replied, trying to sound patient, as if speaking to a particularly obstinate child.
He didn't answer. She let it slide, muttering internally: What have I gotten myself into?
They moved deeper into the village, the alleys narrowing, the mud walls closing in around them. The morning light slanted over rooftops, casting long shadows that made the streets seem deserted and silent.
For a moment, she almost felt safe. Almost.
Then came the sound that made her blood run cold: the pounding rhythm of hooves on solid ground. Multiple hooves, heavy and insistent, echoing through the narrow streets. Soldiers.
Her chest tightened, panic flaring.
She started to protest, but before she could even think of words, his hand was over her mouth, and another gripped her wrist with iron strength. He yanked her toward a shadowed corner, moving with astonishing speed.
"Shh," he hissed, voice low and urgent. "Stay quiet. Move."
Dust and sunlight stung her eyes as he pulled her through a maze of alleys. Her legs struggled to keep up, heart hammering in her chest, mind racing.
She wanted to scream, to pull away, but instinct and survival told her to obey. She had no other choice.
Finally, he guided her into a small, low mud house tucked behind the last row of buildings. The door was unassuming, almost invisible against the walls, and inside it smelled faintly of smoke and earth.
"That was close." She breather a sigh of relief. "Where are we" she asked, dusting the burgundy cloak she was clad into.
"My home."