Surprised by Smith's chilling aura, he felt the man's silhouette grow before his eyes until it towered like a giant entity accustomed to battle, blood, and death.
His pupils enlarged, and his legs shook like two soft twigs battered by a furious gale as fear gripped his heart momentarily. But he couldn't succumb. He had to defeat the knight. To protect his mother, save his brother, and escape the terrifying yet elusive maws of whoever commanded Smith.
He took a deep breath, focusing on his duty to overcome his fears, then dashed before a thick tree. Its naked branches cast dancing shadows as he gulped audibly, feeling the icy wind of the winter's night lick his skin.
Smith chased after him, not wasting time on useless words. He was now a well-oiled, deadly tool trained in the barony to carry out dangerous missions. Only battle concerned him as his sharp movement cut through the wind.
