Lost

As we rode deeper into the forest, the tension in the air was palpable, weighing heavily on our shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear. Every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig beneath our horses' hooves seemed to set my nerves on edge, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows.

Ahead, I spotted a break in the trees—a small clearing bathed in dappled sunlight that filtered through the dense canopy above. Without a word, I urged my horse forward, pushing it to its limits as we raced towards the open space.

As we burst into the clearing, my heart leaped with relief at the sight of Gwendolyn and Ailende, their horses standing at the ready, their weapons drawn in anticipation of an attack. They looked battered and bruised, but alive, their eyes reflecting the same mixture of fear and determination that burned within me.