Rynor might have been a prince, but he didn't really think or act like one. As such, he didn't concern himself with pride or honor. If he had to flee from battle to live another day, he was going to do it—no questions asked.
Wanting to get away from the area as quickly as he could, he mounted the bird and fled full speed ahead.
His hands were on the reins, but his mind was somewhere else.
'What was that thing? I… am not even sure if it was there or if I imagined it. That damned place is too dark to see clearly, but the fear I felt at that moment…' His expression darkened even more. It was like he was looking at his own brother once again. Maybe even his brother would have fallen to that thing.
"But what was it doing? Just standing there, blending into the suffocating darkness as if it were part of the very air. God knows how long it had been there," he muttered, his voice heavy with unease.
