Burnt, Black Roses flew through the air, thickened with blood. The lingering scent of ashes hovered in the singed trees. Screams still echoed through the weaving path of the woods.

Royal members of the party greatly enjoyed making a magnificent show of the event. Pleasing some and losing some, like the old saying, you win some you loose some.

It depends on chance.
Luck
That's half of life isn't it?

Chance

They know where we are. Where we hide. But in I'm out of hiding, i want to smell the ashes of my family once more before i leave them. Before they truly leave me for ever.

Tenderly i picked up the sacred ashes and carefully tipped them in my leather pouch. Taking one last glance at the scene laid out in front of me i hurried back to the safety of our hiding.

But it wasn't safe.
No where is
No where
Not now