I trudged over the ground, my feet sliding over dead autumn leaves as the bleak sunlight filtered down to touch my face. The smell here is crisp, the cleanness of the air almost nauseating as I continued my stride. Raising a hand I graced my fingers along the rough edges of a trees bark. A hiss passed among the branches above, the clatter of their dead limbs against one another mingled with the roar of the breeze in my ears.
“You should remember your place!” And I turn to view the face of my pursuer, with blue eyes, white hair, and a scar over his eye, running the length of his face.
“And where is that?” My voice is like a dull blade, uncaring and unfeeling. The grin that curves his features would unnerve most, would leave you wallowing in despair, but not me…
He extends a hand; an offering of things to come. Turning on my heel, the soft chatter of the trees clapping as one in the sunset breeze filled my ear.
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