Forest.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
***************
The group started to move stealthily, hopping down from their steeds and getting ready for whatever may come.
"Help please" the call for help persisted.
Theodore moved forward following the sound and sure enough it was the first hunt group but they were in a very maladroit position, tied up limbs and hair together, the Theodore mansion crew paused. Theodore shook out of the pause first and moved but before he'd take two feet forward, Conan gripped his arm. "Theodore, where are you going?"
"To untie them" he replied as though it was the obvious thing to do which it was but Conan believed otherwise, "It could be a trap" he warned.
Theodore glanced around, they were red, black and white thread circling the first hunting group of four men, it is a way to restrict them from leaving. A spiritual fetter.
