The snow had run red with blood. Lore wrinkled her nose at the coppery scent that hung in the quiet air, as her horse picked its way carefully down from the treeline. Broken bodies and shattered weaponry lay around the small valley. The battle had been hard fought, and barely won. Farther off a large grey cat padded amongst the dead, stopping now and then to investigate.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Tien tended to think in pictures rather than speech, but Lore was so used to it, she didn’t have to work too hard to grasp what he was saying.
“It might not be a good idea, but we have to at least look for him.” Lore replied out loud.
Halfway across the field, Lore spotted the remnants of Bentor’s banner. Dismounting, she pushed and pulled at bodies around it, hope fighting with dread.
“If he isn’t here, I don’t know what we will do. And if he is, I don’t what to think about that either.” Lore muttered half to herself as she continued her search. The long grey cloak she wore quickly becoming covered in mud and worse as she hunted for a sign of Bentor.
Tien worked his way towards her and began to help in his own catlike way. Using claws and teeth as carefully as he could to hunt through the corpses. Not that the dead would feel anything, but there was a certain solemnity and care given.
“For honest sake Tien. You could do that a lot better if you weren’t a cat.”
Golden eyes regarded Lore for a long moment, before the cat dissolved into a rather unremarkable teenaged boy. Unremarkable except that his eyes were the bright unfathomable yellow of a predator.
“Its warmer,” was Tien’s unapologetic reply.
Picking something up out of the half frozen mud, he rubbed it clean against his leg before holding it up for her to see.