A blur to her right unsettled the dead foliage on the ground causing it to raise in the air in a whirlwind before falling. The lady whimpered at the sight clutching her dress tightly. She could tell that whatever was hunting her was choosing not to pursue her while she stood idly by. It craved the adrenaline—it needed the chase. 

Perhaps she could survive the night if she didn’t tempt her predator by showing her fear, “What do you want from me?!”

The woods remained quiet—not a single  noise heard. The night grew darker as clouds covered the crescent in the sky making it harder to see for the lady.

Meanwhile, the predator watched from the shadows lying in wait for the lady’s fear to consume her. 

The predator could hear the lady’s breath quicken as her chest rose rapidly within the confinements of her tight bodice. She could feel the lady’s tremors as she tried to keep herself upright. Sweat sweetened the air causing the predator to lick her lips in an attempt to taste it. 

The predator waited for a moment before letting out a chilling whistle. The lady turned in place hoping to pinpoint where the sound originated from only to be met with more silence. Her legs moved on their own accord carrying her away from where she stood. The darkness seemed to lighten as the sun raised in the distance. 

“I can make it,” whispered the lady making a rapid dash towards the treeline littered by sun rays. 

Her legs quickened their pace as she began to see the end of the treeline. A prickle of hope began to poke her as she saw the end of her torture within her grasp only to scream as the monster from the dark pounced on her. 

The harrowing sound filled the air only to be silenced as the monster bit deeply into the lady in her arms. The sudden quiet was agonizing as the world took in the truth of the lady’s fate.

The blood flowed quickly into her mouth coating the inside in a deep red. The viscous liquid descended down her throat replenishing her body and coating her tastebuds with a delicious taste.

A laugh scratched at the predator’s throat only quieting at the sound of thundering footsteps heading her way. 

Her speed was otherworldly as she stripped the lady and wore her clothes. A handkerchief swiped across her mouth cleaning any evidence of what she had done and the body was quickly hidden from sight just in time as a tall man broke through the treeline. 

“Are you alright m’lady? I heard a scream.”

The predator willed tears to cascade down her pretty face, wetting it as they descended.

A sob left her mouth as she looked up to the man, “Ser, please help me. I am lost and can’t seem to make my way out of this maze. I was separated from my family during the night and I fear I’ve caused quite the mess by wandering off on my own.”

The man took in the woman’s appearance noting the high quality of dress she wore. It was soiled with dirt and leaves but the cost could be seen clearly. She was a highborn lady asking for his help. 

“I can help. What is your name m’lady?” The man stepped closer slowly.

The woman racked her brain to remember the area she was in, to remember who she had killed. A smile graced her lips, “Amryn Brax, Ser. What is yours?”

“Dunk, Ser Dunk,” he stumbled through his words attempting to stand taller to fake confidence.

“A pleasure Ser Dunk. I am thankful the Seven have been graceful enough to have sent you to save me,” she softened her eyes on cue as she looked up at the man. 

The man gulped slightly at the sight wondering if he was hallucinating. The beautiful woman in front of him surely wasn’t blushing at the sight of him. He blinked slowly trying to come up with a reply, “Where were you going Lady Brax?” 

“I cannot remember Ser. Unfortunately, I was not one to listen closely when my father addressed me. All I remember is the mention of a tourney?” She hid her smile using the information she had gathered the previous week to soften the man into believing her lie. 

“A tourney? For Lady Gwin Ashford?” Dunk questioned her innocently falling deeper into her lie.

“Yes, Ser. I believe that is correct!” Amryn beamed with false joy, satisfied that her ploy had settled itself.

Dunk smiled at her words, “You are in luck m’lady. I am heading that way as well.”

His earnestness caused her to almost feel bad, almost being the important point. In a world where the powerful ruled and the weak kneeled, she was not going to be the latter. 

“You can borrow Chestnut for the journey,” Dunk led her out of the woods and towards the road motioning to one of the three horses he rode with.

His eagerness to help created a pause within Lady Amryn’s thoughts. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as guilt began to gnaw at her. Perhaps she’d let him live once their journey was finished. There was no need to shed his blood. 

Dunk mistook her look for one of discomfort, “While I cannot provide a pavilion worthy of m’lady, I can provide some mild comfort on the road. I can hunt and I assure you I will keep you safe, m’lady.”

“Ser, I did not mean to offend,” Amryn replied, eyes widening in slight discomposure.

“There is an inn up the road. We can rest there properly to lessen your discomfort m’lady,” Dunk bowed his head waiting for her reply.

A small laugh startled him, “Ser, I was deep in thought is all. I am not a stranger to traveling long distances on horseback.”

“Nevertheless, a lady should be kept safe and comfortable. We will stop at the inn at least for some supper and a proper bed for the night,” Dunk nodded his head once at her. 

“Alright, Ser, if you insist,” Amryn couldn’t help the small twitch of her lips as he turned and almost walked into his own horse.

He gripped the lead to Chestnut before leading her towards Lady Amryn carefully so as to not frighten her.

Lady Amryn reached towards Chestnut waiting for any reaction before petting her tenderly. Chestnut released a soft snort before leaning into her touch. 

“She likes you,” noted Dunk, unable to look away from Lady Amryn’s soft expression.

“And I her,” replied Amryn, smiling softly. 

“Here,” Dunk helped Amryn onto the horse with a careful hand before climbing onto his own.