The ride is quiet for a long time; the peaceful sound of hooves crunching against dirt. I eventually drag myself out of my head and enjoy the beautiful forest as we pass through. The trees are much bigger than I've ever seen, the classic greens are mixed with vibrant and strange hues I'm not used to just seeing in passing. Nature here feels exotic and magical, as it burns under the setting sun. I take deep breaths and ground myself in this moment, not allowing any serious thoughts to keep their hold of me. My body still weighing my down as I try and ignore my mind.
The sound of wings and the gentle tickle of feathers wake me from a nap I hadn't realised I slipped into. The horses have pulled off to what seems like a rest point, a familiar bird is glaring daggers at me from the window.
What am I supposed to do here? Do I tend to the horses? Probably not. They came all the way to me, seemingly on their own. I get up and step out, the small lanterns hanging from the carriage are the only source of light. How they glow on their own, I'll just write off as some sort of fantasy bullshit. I walk over to the horses their large and sturdy bodies almost intimidating. A trough full of clean water sits to the side and a pile of grass and grains has already been laid out for them. Is there some magic pit stop worker around, or does the Division just have its tricks?
The horses both handsome brown mares' glance at me between bites. Curious I give a faint whistle and the closest horse steps closer, lowering its snout to me. Unable to resist I slowly put my hand up waiting for her to get a good look at me, before I gently pat her long face. I feel like a cowboy bonding with a trusty steed; a stupid smile stretches across my face. I'm relieved no one is here to see me so excited, just from petting a horse. As if jealous at the attention the other mare also comes up and bumps me; I happily indulge the two with all the pats I can give.
After thoroughly doting on the two for their hard work; I go rummaging into the bag of supplies Sabine had packed me. Pulling out a meat pie, I sit near the horses stretching my legs out. The hawk comes swooping in, landing next to me. Ever overseeing it scans the dark.
"I'd give you a bit of meat, but I don't know if seasoned meat is safe for you." I pull out a small piece wiping some of the sauce off it. Holding it out, it sharply turns of its head to face me seeming hesitant. After a moment, it hop-steps a bit closer and takes the meat from me.
"Playing hard to get, but taking it in the end huh. Don't suppose you'd want any pets this time." Can hawks sigh? It sounds like it just huffed at me.
The night passes quite comfortably, the inside of the carriage is padded and warm. The hawk seems to keep watch as the horses and I sleep. When I wake the next morning, we are already back on the road. How the horses got re hitched I'll just chalk up to more magic for plot convenience. I munch on a piece of fruit for breakfast. The dutiful hawk comes into the carriage, seemingly deciding to keep me company.
"You are the same birdie, aren't you? I know the Division has a lot of messengers, but your glare feels distinct. Yours is the first face I saw since-." It might be silly of me but having the chance to talk without a care, isn't something I'll be able to do once I'm reunited with the main plot.
"Since I woke up here. Is it too obvious hmm? Am I fitting in well for not having a clue what I'm doing? Or will I be punished for not being who I should. Will that sister of mine be heartbroken, that I'm not the brother she had," a long sigh I had gotten used to holding escapes.
I know a glorified chicken isn't going to be able to help me. Yet talking out loud seems to ease my worries, keeping them from becoming overwhelming me again. The chicken in question, also acts as if it's thinking seriously about my raving. I can't resist its cute reaction, lightly brushing a finger over its head. It goes stiff but doesn't peck or squawk at me, so I test my luck and give it a few more light strokes. My chest feels much lighter and I can't help chuckling at the disappointed glare it gives me when I pull my hand away.
"Thank you, clever birdie. If you ever want more head pats, I'm always available," more laughter escapes as it ruffles its feather acting offended.
The day goes by slowly, we pass through a few smaller villages and rest briefly now and again. We enter a densely populated forest, the trees here are thin and dark. The road becomes smaller as we pass less and less travellers. I don't doubt the horses know their way and lounge on the carriage seats with the hawk.
A loud crack suddenly cuts through the silence and the carriage comes to a sudden crashing halt. Both me and the bird fall out of the seat and into the floor. The horses start making a ruckus. The shouts of men also rise. Worried for the mares I quickly get up, peaking through the driver window. The horses have been cut from the cart. Two rough looking men are trying to keep a hold of the two but their bucking and lashing keeps them from getting hold of them. Sensing an opportunity one horse suddenly charges. The space the men make to avoid her, allows both horses room to break into a full sprint. Relief briefly washes over me as I watch the cloud of dust the two make as they disappear down the weaving path. The two men quickly hop onto their own hidden mounts but the strange gangly beasts they ride don't seem likely to be a match for the strong Division horses.
The sound of hooves is soon swallowed by the dense forest surrounding us. There's no chance any sort of bandits would leave the carriage unchecked. With hawk beside me, we both tense as the carriage door is opened. Not wasting a moment hawk dives at the invader the moment he appears. Not having a chance to take note of my presence the man barley raises his arms in time to spare his face from the talons that are stabbed towards him. A glint catches my eye, a dagger with a strange aura unsheathes itself from the man's waist. The bird is too busy digging his claws into his arms to notice the threat that dives their way. I'm unsure how my body reacts as quickly as it does but I manage to get my body around hawk snatching him out of the path of the dagger.
A slight stinging feeling creeps into my right shoulder, I must have pulled something from moving so fast after being stagnant so long. The bandit also stumbles back holding his bleeding arm as his dagger hovers protectively at his side. With the faint smell of blood in the air I clutch hawk close to my chest, the bandit and I exchange glares. I'm rather annoyed at the man that sneers at me, his face handsome despite the layer of grime. His eyes shine with a cocky defiance as he sizes up me and the fidgeting bird in my arms.
"If you give me the bird and whatever else you got in that box on wheels. I'll make your ransom cheaper," the smirk he flashes makes it seem like he's offering me a great deal. I can't stop the twitching of my brow at his audacity.
I scoff, "Sorry to be the one to tell you but the most valuable thing's from the carriage were the ones who were dragging it." I take some pleasure in watching his smirk slightly falter.
"Bullshit, no one gets to ride in one of these carts if they aren't worth something," his eyes are quickly moving across me again.
This time instead of evaluating threat he seems to be gauging my worth. Slight annoyance is apparent as his eyes keep returning to hawk. Whose screeching has practically become a hiss, as it glares from my arms. I'm in -what I assume- is humble cloth that Sabine had given me. I must be disappointing to look at, as he accidentally tightens his grip on his bleeding arm. The moment he winches from his carless action, my eyes are drawn to the movements of the dagger. As he winched the aura around the blade seemed to dimmer slightly, losing its place in the air by a few inches.
An idea begins to form in my mind, "I'll give you my bags, it should be clear I have nothing to fight you with."
I take a cautious step back towards the carriage, he arches a brow following but not stopping my movement. I don't push it too far only reaching into the compartment for the bags, I pull out the snack bag first tossing it at his feet. His eyes dart from me to it, the dagger stays pointed in my direction. I reach back for the bag the original left behind, whispering to the hawk as I do so.
"This time I'll distract him, you fly away," the hawk in my arms goes quiet from shock; clearly having understood me.
When I pull this bag out the bandits' eyes seem to shine a bit. The make of this bag is much better than the snack bag; which he's already emptied out in the time it took me to turn around. Acting as if this bag is too heavy to throw, I leave hawk in the carriage. Passing the bag directly allows me to get right up to him. Before he pulls away bag in hand, I dive at him. The sound of wings taking flight behind me, blends with the bandits startled yelp as I big my nails into the cuts on his arm. I twist to check but the dagger still attempts to pursue hawk. The bandit up close might be shorter than me but his strength is no joke, as he quickly takes hold of both my arms. He is distracted, trying to keep track of hawk in the sky while wrestling with me. Since I'm unable to keep scratching I go to my next option. Using our proximity, I plunge my teeth into the only exposed skin not protected by his leather armour; his neck. The dagger falls from the air, as the bandit lets out a startled yelp. His focus turns fully on removing my teeth from the soft flesh of his neck. I hold on long enough, by the time he's peeled me off him and pinned me to the ground; I see no sign of hawk in the sky.
I let out a breath, stopping my struggling. The bandit keeps me tightly pinned making sure his legs have my arms trapped at my side; mouth also a safe distance from him. He stares at me with wide eyes his hand on his neck, seemingly quite stunned by my display. The dagger doesn't return to hovering, it's been proven his own strength is enough to take me. He sits on top of me too shocked for words.
Assuming I've dug myself quite the grave I don't bother holding back my tongue, "I told you I wasn't worth anything. Do you believe me now? I'm worth less then a pigeon."
"You really shouldn't be so proud of that, you damn crazy fool," he rubs at his neck while shaking his head.
"Well either way if you're going to kill me, just get on with it."
He blinks at me aghast, "Who's going to kill you? I'm a thief not a murderer."
"You were going to stab my bird," I huff.
"A dead bird is still worth at least a meal, your worth even less dead. I don't want to waste more of my time burying you", the smirk makes a return to his face.
I attempt to brake out of the vice grip his legs have me in, to no avail. Ah well its was curiosity more then anything. He seemed pleased with himself despite having gained nothing from his carriage heist.
He let out a laugh, "Are you really, worth nothing? I thought with that long pretty hair of yours you'd be some noble's bastard at least."
I looked at him stone faced, "If my hair is so valuable then take it, it's a pain to have anyway."
"You're joking."
"I'll trade some hair for not having this conversation between your legs."
He stared at me again, seeming scandalized by my choice of words. Reaching out he slowly runs his fingers through a lock of my hair. I could see the math calculations hovering around his head. Finally, he stands up, releasing me from his vice thigh grip.
"Deal."
I blinked, "Wait. Really? If its that easy, what kind of thief are you."
His smile is like that of a cat still cleaning canary off its lips, "If you don't know the value hair like yours has, that's my gain. If you give up your bags, I'll even escort you out of my woods."
This brat, acting like he's won again. Does he fancy himself bandit king? He can't be older than me, what's he got to be swaggering around about. He happily collects my bags, while calling his dagger back to its sheath without a sound. He takes a moment getting his baring's as he stares at the suns place in the sky, before heading off in a direction off the path.
I don't follow easily, "Don't you know how paths work."
He is quick to quip back, "Haven't you heard of a short cut."