Smith rose to his feet, his movements slow. Icy sweat dripped from his forehead as his heart pounded against his chest, deafening his ears. Despite his compliance and the shame, eating at his heart like a swath of larvae, it was the moment of truth. Would Gaston stay true to his words or backstab him after he outlived his use?
He walked towards the cave entrance, his legs trembling inside his greaves in a rattle of soft yet thunderous sound. And soon, he felt the fresh scent of nature reach his nose and winter's chilly wind lick his skin. The rising sun's light heated his hair with its gentle rays, and a deep sigh of relief escaped his lips.
He lingered for a moment, raising his hand to feel his neck. Then, noticing it was still firmly attached to his torso, he scrambled away, cutting through the wind at top speed to unfasten the horses. Riding one, he disappeared into the forest, disturbing its peace with the ruffling of leaves and the breaking of twigs.
