I curled into a tight ball, the back pad nestled between my knees as the trumpets rang louder and louder.

It wasn't like those trumpets you heard in a marching band. There was no comforting timbre or vibration that reverberated through your chest.

The trumpets were an ominous, low sound. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as if a harbinger of despair was tearing its way through the forest and I was right in its path.

Gion was whispering to himself, his eyes closed and his hair shaking.

Whatever was coming this way must've been terrifying if he was praying.

Do the Fae even have gods?

The ground started to shake. I felt the tree I was nestled in groan and shake, some of its leaves falling to the ground and onto the road.

A trumpet blared, closer now.

The cacophony of hooves, growls, and jeering came forth, a mass of colour and sound.

I turned around as a young man with horns was running past us. He stopped at the base of the tree I was hiding in.

I placed my hand over my mouth, quieting down my breathing.

He was bloody from head to toe. His blonde hair was a rusty colour from the blood. One of his eyes was red and blood trickled from a cut on his forehead.

Bite marks covered his lower limbs, bright and red. Fresh.

I could smell the blood. It was so potent that I could smell it even though I had covered my mouth.

He looked as horrific as his injuries. One of his horns was broken at the base, dangling from his scalp by a wisp of tissue.

I felt sick.

He snapped his head up, a pair of wide red and blue eyes looking up at me. I could only look back.

We stared at each other for a moment before an arrow shot out and pierced through his shoulder.

I whimpered as he screamed. It was an inhuman sound, somewhere between a goat bleating and a human.

Gion was silent but I could feel him trembling. I placed a around him, just holding him like I wished someone would hold me.

He ran down the road leaving a fresh trail of blood behind him.

And then came the hunters.

They came into view, directly below me.

There were seven of them adorned in gleaming gold armour. They spread out in an arrowhead formation, the one at the tip of it wearing gold armour as well. Except he had no helmet and a red woven cloak wrapped itself around his broad shoulders.

In one hand he held the reins to a giant bay-colored horse and in the other, a massive crossbow that was half the size of my body.

He looked older with sun-kissed skin and a crop of long white hair braided with gold beads. The armour he wore differed from the others.

His was like fish scales upon his move, the metal gleaming in the light with each move.

If I was so terrified of the fact that there was a splash of blood on his breastplate, I'd find the sight impressive.

He raised his fist causing his entourage to stop. The horse bayed, stomping the hooves impatiently as the hounds snapped their jaws.

I turned back around, squeezing my eyes shut. I remembered the satyr, the fear and helplessness that enshrouded him.

I didn't want to end up like that.

"My Lord!" One of his attendants called out. "Why have we stopped? Our prey awaits!"

"Silence!" The man hisses, his voice a rich baritone. "I sense something."

The wind picks up once more, the branches shake violently as if the tree is trying to throw me out.

I dig my hand into the bark, refusing to utter a sound.

"Yes," the man says. "Come out, intruder. The Hunt will not show mercy."

A screech is heard through the forest, almost human-like.

The shaking and wind stops as a bright red fox darts out into the middle of the road.

The hounds snarl, crouched low to the ground as they wait for their master's orders.

Almost as if the fox were taunting them, it turns in circles emoting a high-pitched sound. Was it me or was that fox laughing at the men in armour?

The man with long white hair hissed, snapping his arm forward to point towards the small creature.

The hounds took off after it, their growls haunting.

The man took one more lingering glance at me before snapping the reins and kicking his horse forward. In seconds, the hunters took off towards the fox.

The forest becomes silent once more, the trumpets fading into the distance.

I allowed myself to take a deep breath in and let it out in a gush. I laid my head back, staring up the the tips of the tree beaches that reached up to a blue sky.

That was close.

Gion buried his face in my neck. At least he wasn't trembling anymore.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"T-That is a horrible, horrible man," Gion answered.

"Worse than the people who took Fallon?"

"Worse." He says.

I climbed down the tree, my palms stinging. There was a pool of blood where the satyr was, still fresh.

I watched as his blood seeped into the ground. Small little buds emerged from the tainted soil, blooming red flowers the same shade as his blood. 

Someone chuckled. "Fascinating, is it not?"

"Not again." I turned around and pressed my back against the tree, grabbing for the knife I had shoved into my pocket.

"Although, it's a pitiful bloom considering how much he bleeds from the hunter's arrow."

A fox with orange-red fur laid itself out in a patch of sunlight, its eyes closed.

Gion and I exchanged a glance.

He shook his head. "Be wary of him, my lady. Trust not his words."

The fox stood up, its tail flickering like a flame. His eyes were open now, revealing honey-coloured eyes. "You wound me, little brownie. If my master had not sent me, then that human you pitifully protect would've fallen into the hands of the Hunt."

What is this Narnia bullshit that keeps happening to me?

"And who exactly is your master?"

"Oh?" The fox opened his mouth, showing off his teeth. He started to circle me. "Has the little brownie not told you? So young and naive for a human. You would trust that insignificant little thing? Ha! Your choice of companion surprises me."

I glared at him. I would have gladly kicked him. "That's just rude."

"As are you." He stops, turning his head towards the end of the road when the huntsmen went. He stiffs the air, his eyes narrowing. "But that is not our concern. Follow me, child. My master awaits you."

I glance between the fox and the road. I can still smell the scent of blood.

Gion glares at the fox. "I do not trust him but he is loyal to Master Darien. It is our best chance of finding him."

"I don't like it either," I said, hiking up my backpack and following the fox. Its bright orange tail disappears into the underbrush but I can hear his paws as he scampers ahead. "But I don't want to run into those guys."