Candles in the Wind - Part 7

Oliver could not have said quite how long he'd lost consciousness for, only that it had been too long.

He awoke to a sense of defeat that sat heavy within the air.

He saw Verdant lying beneath his horse, covered in his own blood.

He saw the beautiful Lady Blackthorn, with her hair scattered around her in a cloud, half of it cut shorter, and the rest of it stained with the same scarlet blood that contaminated them all.

Oliver groaned. Somehow, he was still mounted. He'd been resting against Walter's neck, halfway out of the saddle. One of his feet was unhooked from the stirrups. The other had just barely managed to hold him on.

In response to his groan, his faithful horse gave a concerned whinny in reply. Oliver tried to reach his hand forward to pat his neck in order to reassure the beast, but that only brought forth more groans out of him.