As the sun slowly sets in the West, Hannah finally tears her attention away from path finding. Ahead on the horizon looms what appears to be an ancient forest; its shadow long and deep in the setting sunlight. Hannah well knows that either they should make camp soon while they have light to prepare by, or press on well into the night and locate a spot that requires little preparation and hopefully little defense. Hour upon hour in the saddle is enough to tire even the stoutest of travelers.
Sir Tristan is a quiet companion at Hannah's back, mounted on his white Knightsteed. If he's found the journey tiring, he doesn't show it: he has that perfect, un-mussed look common to the fey of House April, every blonde strand in place and his breeches barely dusty from the trail. He's been deferential to Hannah's lead: she's the trailfinder, not him, and he's not questioned her choices on the road.
Hannah stares at the forest ahead while she considers her options. There could be a cave or some other natural formation within to help shelter them from the evening, but a trek at night through a place with such dense foliage could be hazardous, too, with dim lanternlight and little moonlight to see by. She turns her head in Sir Tristan's direction and tells him, "We should camp soon but I'm not sure a trek through this wood ahead to find a spot is the best choice. Camping outside the wood, however, would mean a little more work to make our resting place decent. Do you have a preference?"
The fey knight considers the question seriously. "Outside the wood," he says, after a moment. "I mislike traveling through strange woods in the dark. I've had enough trouble with them by daylight."
Princess Peach-Blossom Marigold Honeydew flicks her luxurious mane in apparent agreement.
Tristan glances at the golden knightsteed, and looks like he's considering a change in opinion. Manfully, he restrains himself and lets Hannah select a campsite.
The old man riding double on Souhait has made up for Tristan's quietness by playing traveling melodies for them, telling tales, or holding forth on the peculiarities of the wilderness through which they're venturing - the same cloud has been compared to a wasp, a flower, and a lost shred of dignity from Prince Al-Gheezar, after his discovery in the the Djinni's bath. He holds his tongue a moment for Tristan's answer, then adds, "My tail is killing me - it's been a while since I've taken any long trips! So aye too, to preparing a camp while we've got light."
Tristan smiles. "That decides it, then, my good sir: for we cannot have you perishing from a rebellious tail. Who would tell our tales then?" Once Hannah's selected a spot, he dismounts and offers Sam a hand down, then turns on reflex to make sure Hannah's not waiting for one, too.
Taking Sam's comment as a dig against Souhait, Peaches holds her head a little higher. Her rider isn't complaining about a sore butt.
Souhait rolls his eyes at the Princess. Get over yourself. You wanna carry two riders next?
Hannah seems not to need any help dismounting, for she already has both feet on the ground and is trying to find a lounging spot for the Princess, so the Knightsteed can rest out of the way while the girl unpacks her camping gear.
Thankfully the spot they're currently at hash high, thick, grass. So finding a comfortable spot should not be an issue. Starting a campfire, however, will be. One good gust of wind and they could find themselves in the center of a grass fire.
Minstrel Sam hops down nimbly enough with Tristan's assistance, for his supposed aching. His cloak furled about his shoulders cushions the lute, which jangles melodically against his back, and a satchel carries some modest provisions. Obviously his camping experience consists mostly of going inn to inn, but he hasn't yet complained about sleeping on the ground with just his cloak for a wrap - as cloaks go, it's deluxe and extra-large in proportion to his small frame.
Although he's not an explorer by trade, Tristan has ample experience in camping, and he's quick about unloading his tent, and the rest of the gear from Souhait. He gives his horse a brisk rubdown first, which Souhait stretches and leans into with evident enjoyment. After that, Tristan sets about erecting the tent he and Sam will share.
Once unloaded, Peaches proceeds to search out the best tasting grass before the bigger stallion (and maybe Sam - she's not to sure about the Minstrel's species) can gobble it all up.
"Look," Tristan murmurs in an aside to Sam and Hannah, with a slight nod towards the effeminate mare. "There's hope for her yet: she's putting food ahead of preening tonight."
The old minstrel whispers back to Tristan and Hannah, "Y'know, if I didn't know Redmane would have checked, I'd wonder if she were some young noble woman transmogrified into a steed."
Hannah smiles briefly at the men's by-play, then eyes the tall grasses with some concern. If I can find enough stones I can make a very low wall for the campfire. That will help but the breeze is still an issue. She then roots around in one of her packs to see if she brought one of her longer-bladed knives with her. "Looks like I'll have to trim some grass around here or we might have more of a fire than we were intending," she comments. Then she smiles again and says, "Unless Souhait and the Princess want to crop some grass in a very tight circle?"
Peaches gives a little whinny to acknowledge that she heard the suggestion.. and promptly ignores it.
Souhait obligingly trots over to crop at the grass on the selected spot. He doesn't care where he eats. Although he does chew the first mouthful carefully, with a thoughtful look as he considers the taste.
"We could forgo a fire if you'd rather, m'lady," Tristan offers. "It seems a pleasant enough evening."
There isn't a great deal of taste to the grass; but at least that means it doesn't taste bad.
Hannah shakes her head slightly and grimaces as her Knightsteed wanders away from her, then takes the knife she found and helps Souhait cut down the grass where the campfire is to be built. She also looks around for stones to build the makeshift firepit with as she works.
Minstrel Sam helps Tristan with setting up the tents. "Ah, but how would you sample my famous Five Bell Chili if we didn't have a fire over which to cook it, milord?"
A ripple passes over Souhait's withers, then he sets to with intent. He's careful to avoid the spots Hannah's trimming.
Peaches actually looks up in alarm at Sam's suggestion.
Tristan grins. "Then that would be something else we would have to forgo. Alas!"
Hannah glances over her shoulder at Tristan. "I don't mind the extra work, I became well enough used to such when I first arrived at Hawksmoor! Yet if you see any stones with which to make a firepit, I'd be much obliged."
Stones are few and far between to find in the tall grass. However, she does find other items that would work well as makeshift fire pit walls ... unfortunately, they're the skulls of deer or perhaps antelope. This nags a bit at Hannah ... in that there usually aren't this many in the same spot. And to make matter stranger, there are odd bite patterns on them.
"Why, we might be reduced to eating trail mix and hard biscuits without a fire," the minstrel stresses as he tests the tent lines to be sure they're taut, as if the very thought should be torment. "And instead of tea, we might have to drink river water!"
"A fate better than death," Tristan notes to Sam. He nods and helps Hannah with the search for stones. He's perplexed by the number of skulls, too. "Was some predator making this a campsite?" He checks to see if the other bones of the animals are around, too.
Hannah lays her knife aside and turns one of the deer skulls in her hands, examining the bite marks with a frown, trying to see the bite patterns better. "This doesn't inspire confidence," she murmurs to herself.
Minstrel Sam looks curious at the skull. "Why's that?"
The bitemarks are odd. They don't look like they came from a large creature ... or one with lots of pointy teeth. It almost looks like small chisel patterns.
The mare turns her nose up as she comes across the bones were she was cropping grass, and actually seems to turn a bit green.
Where there are skulls, there are other bones; legs, ribs, and so on. Definitely deer or antelope. It isn't exactly reassuring in that even as much as twenty feet from where they have started to build camp ... they find more bones.
"At first I thought we might be in the territory of some predatory animals, but after looking at these marks I'm not so sure," Hannah remarks to the minstrel. "It almost looks as if someone took these skulls to decorate them in some way. I don't think the patterns here are bite marks.."
"Mayhaps we should move on," Tristan says. He checks his sword in its scabbard at his side by reflex. He's wearing a chainmail tunic, but his helmet is with the rest of his gear, beside the half-erected tent.
The old fae looks puzzled. "Not bite marks? But why would anyone choose to mark up a skull so? More likely, milady, we've got us a case of carnivorous beavers." He pauses, then deadpans, "Prone to building dams out of bones. See any rivers?"
Tristan checks to see if the other bones have similar "chisel marks", and if the patterns match the ones on the skulls or are different.
Not picking up the scent of a predator, Peaches begins to nudge the bones about with a hoof, until she's made a valentine heart out of them.
All of the bones seem to bear the same chisel marks.
"I'm inclined to agree with you, Tristan, but moving on may mean dangers, too. Riding by night through a thick forest is such a one, as are extra saddle sores," Hannah says with a small grin. "But I'm willing if you are. Won't be the first time I've made my way through a forest at night!"
"It's all the same markings, and the same pattern; not exactly an art style," Tristan says with a frown. He puts the bone back into Peaches' heart-shape. "The letter from Greeble didn't mention anything about something like this, did it?"
Peaches prances proudly around her work of art.
Minstrel Sam stage-whispers to Peaches, "So whose initials are you going to put in it?"
Souhait makes an 'arrow' of bones shot through the heart, while Peaches is distracted by prancing.
The mare makes an equine version of a harrumph, which consists of a surprisingly delicate flaring of the nostrils and a soft snort. She gives Souhait a dangerous look when she notices his vandalism!
Tristan starts to gather his gear again. "Do you see any tracks from predators in the area, m'lady? Or people, for that matter -- beyond us."
The white stallion looks studiously innocent.
"Might be a good idea to find out where they lair," Minstrel Sam agrees. "Wouldn't be good for us if the forest where we're headed is where they live!"
Hannah watches the Princess make her innocent little shapes with the bones in the grass, and this seems to help her make up her mind. "No, wait, Tristan. It occurs to me that we may be a little too weary to continue on as a group and tiredness leads to mistakes. Odd bones or no, we're probably better off staying where we are. We shall just have to take turns at a watch." Nodding at the minstrel, she adds, "Plus, I also had the thought that we may be going towards whatever did this if we wander into the forest at night!"
The fey knight bows to Hannah's decision, and stops re-packing. "As you say, m'lady. There are four of us to take shifts."
The minstrel adds up their numbers quickly, then realizes Tristan's counting Souhait. He looks askance to Souhait. After all, the poor fellow's carrying two and might be a little tired.
Hannah now looks at Sam and asks, "Do you mind handling animal skulls to make a firepit, while I scout around for tracks?"
Peaches whinnies, and stamps her hoof five times.
"Sure, I'll get right on it, lass," Minstrel Sam agrees. "Want me to make you some fashionable skull cups too? Or some hip plates?"
Tristan seems about to interrupt her question to Sam, but stops himself. He smiles at Peaches's stomping. "My apologies, Princess. Five to stand watch." He finishes setting up his tent, and starts putting up Hannah's while she scouts.
Hannah picks up her knife again ans sheathes it, then decides to carry it with her, just in case. As she starts looking about for any type of predator's tracks, she passes close to Souhait and whispers to him, "Although you may wish to have the Princess watch with you, instead of on her own?" She also gives the Knightsteed a conspiratory smile.
The old man grins mischeviously to Hannah, not that he had any real intention of making some bone cutlery. He sizes up the bones and sets to work. To avoid making things too garish, he turns the skulls inward and packs them with dirt over the eyes so they might as well be simple round white stones, except of course for all the chisel marks.
Souhait snorts, and the eye facing Hannah closes for a moment in a quick wink.
The mare seems mollified by Tristan's correction, but makes big pouty eyes at Hannah's clarification.
Hannah nods at Souhait's reaction, then goes about her scouting.
The rolling field could be called a scouts nightmare. Hannah finds plenty of hoof marks, rodent marks, and other such non-predatory animals beneath the high grass. But one thing that stands out is she doesn't seem to find any common predator tracks. Ever. It's almost like the regular predators are avoiding this field.
Lovely, Hannah thinks. So what we might face is a very extra-ordinary predator. Couldn't have something as easy to subdue as a pack of wolves, now could we? Then she scouts a little closer to the forest, to see if she can detect if anything strange came out of it recently.
Up close to the edge of the woods Hannah finally finds something. The tracks are old. Months old. But ... they are unfortunately very recognizable ... troll footprints. A quick scout along the edge of the forest doesn't show any fresh ones, thankfully.
Although this discovery isn't exactly pleasant, Hannah feels almost relieved to find the troll's tracks. Better the evil that you know than the evil that you don't, she muses, but then again...why would trolls make chisel marks on animal skulls? Still thinking on this, she heads back to the camp to tell the others of her find.
On the way back, Hannah notices that the troll tracks are only at the woods edge. There still aren't any tracks out in the field other than the usual animal ones she found earlier.
Peaches makes a disgusted face at the mention of trolls, and goes back to silently critiquing Minstrel Sam's ossuary firepit.
When Tristan learns what Hannah's found out, he shakes his head a little. "Perhaps our track-less predator is airborne?" he suggests. "Some kind of bird? It seems we've a choice between old troll stomping grounds and an unknown predator out here."
The old fae rolls his eyes, "No, Princess, I'm not making it into a valentine's shaped firepit. I like simple. Simple means I can get started cooking dinner." Suiting words to action, he sets up a pot with boiling water and starts preparing his 'Famous Five Bell Chili' - five dried bell peppers, a variety of beans, a sausage diced up along with a hunk of cheese, and a brownish square that he proclaims is his 'secret ingredient'. The last gets tossed in whole and then he stirs vigorously.
Peaches seems disappointed that Sam is not using any grass, alfalfa or oats in his recipe.
Hannah muses over Tristan's suggestion. "That could explain the absence of its tracks, yes. Well, I'd still rather camp out here for if we found trolls in the wood at night, they'd have the natural advantage of superior night vision. And I don't fancy getting whacked in the head again by another troll's club that I won't see coming!"
"Fair enough, m'lady. And we know that trolls will not balk at attacking the fey, whereas whatever's preying on animals out here hasn't yet proven a taste for fey flesh," Tristan notes. By now he's done setting up both tents. He lays out his bedroll and Sam's in theirs, so that the minstrel can finish cooking.
Hannah nods and says to Tristan, "Thank you for setting up my tent while I was scouting, by the way." She then stops by the cookpot and sniffs the chili that the minstrel is stirring with great curiosity. "It does smell spicy," she comments. "It smells good, too, but I sense it has a kick to it?"
The minstrel tastes his concoction. "Lacks a bit of one, actually!" He reaches into his satchel and takes out a small packet of dark green leaves, dried and crumbly to the touch, which he sprinkles into the chili. "Trolls, eh? But you didn't see any of their tracks beyond the woods?" He studies the tall grass, then shakes his head, not having any brilliant ideas.
Hannah watches as Sam adds spice to his creation, then shakes her own head. "I hope you're going to serve bread with that, to take away the pain a bit," she says with a smile. "But to answer your question, no, I didn't see any traces of trolls beyond those woods." Then she heads over to her own tent to arrange what she will need within it.
"No spoor either, then?" Tristan asks. He gazes at the darkening sky a moment, then looks around the campsite. "is there anything else I'm forgetting to do?"
"An excellent idea," the old fae agrees. He takes a loaf of hard bread from their rations and cuts it with a cleaver, so the slices can be dipped into the chili or even used as spoons.
Taking another sip, the minstrel smiles broadly. "Aw yeah, that's the stuff. Okay, dinner's on!" He fills up bowls with the thick brown stuff. It's a far cry from the colorfully sauced feasts to which nobles are accustomed, but it smells intriguingly spicy.
Hannah pokes her head out of her tent for a moment to answer Tristan. "I only saw tracks and except for the troll-tracks, they were all from non-predators, too." Then she goes inside again to finish arranging her own gear before she comes back out to join the others for dinner.
"Thank you, my good minstrel." Tristan accepts the dish and inhales gratefully, then dips a slice of bread in and lets it soak for a moment before spooning some out with the bread and taking a bite.
Hannah takes her own bowl and sniffs the stuff again before taking an experimental bite. Her eyes widen but that's only because she finds the chili surprisingly good. "And to think that all this time, Thomas claimed that your only talents lay in singing and drinking," she teases Sam in between mouthfuls.
"Not true - he also claims I've a talent for getting in trouble!" Minstrel Sam rejoins.
Tristan glances from Hannah to Sam. "That sounds more like him," he says in response to Sam's comment. "I am not sure I recall the Lord Explorer ever ascribing a positive trait to another -- you must see a different side of him, my lady," he adds quickly to Hannah.
"Well, you know, milord, I've always contended that getting into trouble is more properly Tom's talent," Sam says with a mock-humble expression. "If I get into trouble so that he can try to get me out of it, and we wind up in a worser mess, why then, it's clearly his talent at work!"
Tristan grins at Sam's quip. "Indubitably."
Hannah grins as she takes another bite of her chili. "Thomas' normal reaction to others is to run roughshod over them, that is true," she tells the knight. "Even I'm not immune to that habit of his, you know. But he does give compliments when he thinks the other person has earned them."
Peaches gives Souhait a look. Did he ever compliment one of us?
"I am glad to hear it, m'lady." Tristan doesn't sound very glad. Souhait shakes his head at Peaches. Never. Tristan takes another bite of chili, then feels contrained to speak into the silence. "From our talk ... he gave the impression he though highly of you, Lady Hannah, although he did not say it in so many words." His voice is carefully neutral as he speaks.
Figures, Peaches replies to Souhait. He has no respect for his mane.
Souhait tosses his own and snorts, not arguing.
Hannah snorts at that. "I'm sure." Then she looks down into her bowl and stirs the remaining chili around with her slice of bread. "If you don't mind my asking, Sir Tristan...what did Thomas wish to talk to you about?" she says quietly.
The minstrel munches on chili cheerfully and seems content to listen while the knight and the lady explorer chat.
"I do not mind, my lady." The knight considers his answer for a moment, though. "I believe he wanted to ascertain my motive. To ensure that I was not offering because I thought you incapable. Which was not the case, of course."
"Thank you for that, Sir Tristan. But-" Here Hannah seems to choose her next words with care, as well. "It does beg the question, why did you offer to come with me? I rather thought that you were presently committed to...other tasks."
Minstrel Sam waggles his eyebrows over at Souhait meaningfully, and glances over to Hannah and Tristan.
The fey knight shakes his head. "I've no such commitments at present, my lady. Your mission at present is far more serious than anything I've been called upon to do in Months. Er, months. I offered because of that: it sounded risky and I saw no need for you to face it unaided. Not because you need aid -- but because no one goes into dangerous situations alone, if there are other options."
"I see. You wished to fulfill your knightly duties. An honorable reason." It could be Tristan's imagination, but it does seem that Hannah's words are slightly tinged with disappointment. However, she merely nods and takes another mouthful of her chili.
Why doesn't he just nuzzle her or nibble her mane? Peaches asks of Souhait.
The old minstrel eyes Tristan thoughtfully, but decides to save explaining the birds and the bees and the fairer sex until they're in their tent and can talk a little more privately.
Tristan hesitates at Hannah's response, uncertain of what else to risk saying. After a moment, he tries, "Mayhaps I was swayed, too, by the lure of good company and the chance to escape the rather more stultiying duties that are heaped upon me among the Houses." He strives for the kind of light-hearted, bantering tone that Tom and Redmane and Hannah use amongst themselves, but he doesn't really make it: instead, he sounds earnest and sincere.
Souhait glances at Peaches and snort. Please. I don't think he even knows how.
We shall have to work on that, Princess Peach-Blossom asserts, and even gives a little stamp of her hoof.
The minstrel laughs. "Oh aye, ornamental statues, that's the lot of a knight in peacetime. Oh, it's Tristy this and Tristy that and Tristy, how's my dress, but it's thin silver line of heroes when the orcish drums roll..." He mildly paraphrases a famous soldiers' ballad.
Hannah raises her head and looks again into the knight's eyes, just as she did at Redmane's ranch. It's as if she's trying to find the truth behind Tristan's words. "And what duties would those be?" she asks, her tone just as earnest as his.
Tristan rolls his eyes and nods wryly to Sam. "Indeed. Do not mistake me -- I am grateful for the peace!" he says. "But ... there have been times where I felt I should sooner face a raging wyvern than one ... more ... recital."
Peaches whinnies. She likes recitals.
He adds for clarity, "And genteel young women pleading for reassurance or desperate to be well-received, as if their very lives depended on the fit of their dress or the quantity of applause they garner. I am glad there's peace now and time to worry over such things, but I might wish they appreciated it a bit more."
The mare practically gasps as Tristan tramples on everything she holds dear! Maybe he's not a good match for her mistress after all. She shall just have to keep them separated should Hannah go into season during the mission.
A small line of irritation forms in the center of Hannah's forehead as she stares down at her bowl again, her hands tightening around it. "I understand what you mean. I saw many such ladies displayed at the last Royal Gala."
Mention of the gala banishes Peaches' foul mood, and the mare wanders closer to listen for details. She even comes within spitting distance of Sam!
The coolness in Hannah's voice makes Tristan wonder if his criticism was too harsh. "The Royal Gala was pleasant enough ... " he begins, and then something else clicks. "This year? I did not realize you'd attended, my lady. I did not see you there at all." He sounds wistful.
Lord Ahearn shall take me to the Gala next time, Peaches tells Souhait, sounding confident.
Lord Ahearn? Souhait, in turn, is incredulous.
The minstrel, satiated with a swig of wine to wash the chili down, strums his lute and strikes up music to accompany the sunset and the conversation. It doesn't have sung lyrics, but by the way he plays first the deeper notes, then the higher ones, it sounds suspiciously like a love duet.
Of course! I'm the prettiest, so once I catch his eye he will forget all of those overbuilt brood mares, the Princess claims. The next generation of knightsteeds will be elegant and graceful and beautiful..
Still, the daughter of November does not look at Tristan. "I arrived late and did not stay long," she replies, the line in her forehead deepening. "There was no need for me to linger. I... Well. I realized that I was better off returning to Hawksmoor, than to try and fit in where I did not belong."
Her lavender eyes seeming to go unfocused, Peaches describes what it will be like, the two of them dancing alongside Lord Melchizidek and Lady Ariel, while the gathered gentry are awestruck by their equine nobility..
Souhait gives Peaches a dubious look. Tristan's ignoring the horses and the minstrel to watch Hannah. "I ... I am sorry I missed your entrance, m'lady. It would have brightened my evening to have seen you there." Then he stops, realizing he's said too much.
Minstrel Sam, adjusting the lute's frets, lets the higher, feminine melody linger plaintively, then retunes them and plays the reassurance of the lower, masculine one as a harmony to the first. His grizzled face is shadowed as the sun sets, but there's the hint of a mischevious grin.
So lost is she in her fantasy that Peaches begins to dance to Sam's playing.. albeit in a very equine, prancy sort of manner.
Souhait sways a bit, too. As Tristan leans forward and watches Hannah, his horse nudges him gently in the back with one knee. Tristan starts and turns to blink at the stallion.
Hannah puts down her bowl of half-eaten chili, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Forgive me for doubting you, Sir Tristan, but after what I saw of the Gala, I am not so sure of that." Her words are without rancor, but soft and sad. She moves as if to rise and return to her tent.
"Wait -- what do you mean?" Tristan stands quickly, moving to follow her. "M'lady?"
The minstrel plays the higher female melody again, but lets the last note hang in the air, lonelily.
Both the knight and the lady Explorer find in the moment of silence that follows in Tristan's pursuit of Hannah that they can feel a strange vibration coming from the ground. The vibration seems to gain a voice as a low rumble fills the air ... and grows steadily louder. It is one the knightsteeds know well, the thunder of hundreds of hooves upon the earth. A stampede. Now that the sun has ducked to the edge of the horizon ... it's difficult to see what may be approaching but something definitely is in a shadowy wave. An equine shriek fills the air and in a split second, bobbing portions of the shadow wave suddenly drops away. The wave of shadow then twists on the horizon ... and is heading right towards them!
"By the queen!" Tristan doesn't waste time staring. A glance to Hannah to make sure she's going to Peaches, then he takes Sam's arm and boosts the man onto Souhait, bareback, before mounting behind him. He doesn't take the time to retrieve his gear, either. Instead, he gauges the direction of the -- stampede? -- and plot a route that will take them out of its path.
The minstrel flails, windmilling his hands around until he's got his lute slung behind him properly so he can hold onto Souhait with both hands. "Pins and needles! What in all of creation is that?" he yelps, looking at the horizon.
Hannah whirls away from Tristan to gaze out at the oncoming rush of hooved creatures in the distance. Then she makes a run for the Princess and vaults onto her back from behind! "If we can't outrun or outmaneuver these things - well, I hope you can climb trees instead! We may need to go into the treetops to get out of the way and let the Knightsteeds find shelter in the woods!"
Peaches hesitates at the prospect of running blind through the darkness. Instead, she drops down onto her knees and tries to roll Hannah onto the ground!
Souhait gapes at Peaches. What are you doing, mare? Have you gone mad?
Hannah winds her fingers into the Princess' mane and holds on for dear life! "Now is not the time for this!" she hisses into the mare's ear. "It's either avoid these creatures or be trampled!"
There's another equine shriek and another of the shadows drops from view. From where the shadow fell, there's a guttural roar; the sound only something huge would normally make. The direction the stampeding herd comes from gives only one option for an escape direction ... the forest.
Idiot men! Peaches replies, and starts to roll onto her back. Protect! Protect!
Then Tristan knees Souhait closer to the mare, and leans over to extend his arm to Hannah. "Souhait can carry three at need!" he shouts. "I'm not so worried about the stampede as whatever's driving it!"
Minstrel Sam yelps, hanging onto his floppy brimmed hat. "Looks like a stampede of HORSE-EATING GOPHERS," he calls, making a wild guess based on the relative sizes of the shadows to the stampede.
Hannah gives the mare a deeply disgusted look before grasping Tristan's hand. "You've made your choice - fend for yourself!" she tells the Princess.
No! Peaches whinnies, and tries to keep Hannah down. She twists like a cat to try to get on top of the girl and press her down! Shield! Boulder! Running blind into the trees is crazy!
Tristan tries to pulls Hannah up behind him. Souhait shouts at Peaches, The predators can jump a blockade even if the stampede won't!
They chase what runs! Let me protect her! the mare pleads with Souhait, sparing a moment to look at the oncoming wave.
Hannah cries out in pain as she is being pulled by Tristan by one arm and nearly flattened to death by her Knightsteed. "How can...you protect me?" she gasps to the Princess. "You're crushing me...and the stampede will crush you!" Then she spares another glance at the oncoming wave and notices just how close it is to them now. She makes her decision - and lets go of Tristan's hand. "RUN!" she shouts to Souhait.
The shadow wave grows ever closer ... and now they can make out what they are, or at least make a guess. A herd of antelope. As the two fey try to dislodge the insane knightsteed, one of the fleeing animals leaps up into the air and forward, getting ahead of the charging pack. From the ground, a blurry ball of /something/ leaps up after it, slamming into it. The antelope /shrieks/ and even in the low light, a spray of blood issues from its throat. The antelope comes crashing down and rolls several times, its limbs audibly snapping from the impact. When it grows still, the two can see something size up from its neck. It stretches upward, becoming all of two feet tall if the distance is figured in ... and a third of that is two long ears. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but the haze of its fur looks to be ... /pink/? Its head swivels towards the camp and two red eyes blink. And that's when they hear the guttural voice again, all to large for such a small creature. It calls out "/Hannah?
It calls out "Hannah? HANNAH!"
"No!" Tristan half-slides from Souhait's back, lunging after Hannah. Souhait's hindquarters are bunched to run, but when he realizes Tristan's gone he balks. The warhorse makes his decision: Crazy mare! Nonetheless, he shakes Sam onto the far side of Peaches with Tristan and Hannah, and crouches with his broad flank to the oncoming stampede, braced to use his body as a blockade to force the stampede around.