"If you're looking for the runaway, she's over here."
A voice through the trees; Pippa freezes in her tracks for a moment, some base animal instinct for survival rooting her to the spot. But it sounds like a girl's voice, and not unfriendly. Maybe someone else from the village, out hunting for game?
"Just a minute!" she calls back to whomever the horse's rescuer is, wrinkling up her nose some as she pushes aside bush and bramble in her effort to get all the messy underbrush out of her way. There's a thicket just up ahead if the light filtering through the branches is any indication, and the dulcet tones of a babbling brook, and she makes a beeline for it. "Thanks for catching her, the Saints only know what I'd've done if she'd gone--"
--and as she clears the edge of the trees and stumbles into view, she comes to another unsteady stop and looks with widening eyes from the filly to her eerie woodland rescuer. "...the other way."
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A voice through the trees; Pippa freezes in her tracks for a moment, some base animal instinct for survival rooting her to the spot. But it sounds like a girl's voice, and not unfriendly. Maybe someone else from the village, out hunting for game?
"Just a minute!" she calls back to whomever the horse's rescuer is, wrinkling up her nose some as she pushes aside bush and bramble in her effort to get all the messy underbrush out of her way. There's a thicket just up ahead if the light filtering through the branches is any indication, and the dulcet tones of a babbling brook, and she makes a beeline for it. "Thanks for catching her, the Saints only know what I'd've done if she'd gone--"
--and as she clears the edge of the trees and stumbles into view, she comes to another unsteady stop and looks with widening eyes from the filly to her eerie woodland rescuer. "...the other way."