The forest is quiet. Quiet as a deer before the SURPRISE! of a surprise birthday party. I lay one foot in front of the other, arching my toes to roll into each step through the thick forest carpet. A bird calls. Twice. A bird named little Moses, letting me know that all my Merry Men are in position. A second sound: the sound of clopper cloppering hooves. thup thup thup thup thup thup... quite as a cricket at first, then boisterous as a bullfrog, then hungry like a pack of dogs on Reynard himself, then.. like horses. Horses pulling wagons pulling greasy plump pears and privileged peacock feathers, led and followed by men of the worst kind: good men, with bad jobs, and sharp swords.
1 Steel clad crusader. Armor.. thick. Weaponry... classic.
2 Purple mercenaries. Silk embroidered over leather. Very fine. 2 swords a head... a buckler.. and a crossbow at the ready.
2 Heaps of rusty metal. These ones have faces... and handsome expressions. God bless you.
Wagon... Wagon.
4 keen eyed archers, a peregrine falcon sewed to yeoman's shoulders.
1 more ... Sheriff? He is a black spot in a green forest, surrounded by silver and crimson and green and purple silk, hugging the tail of the train like death her self.
The boys are ready. I am ready. I bring my lips together and press my tongue to my teeth. This is what this is for.
.... it always ends here.
