Silva felt it before she saw it. It was that same feeling she always got when they were nearby. When he was nearby. She felt it in her stomach, that ache that never seemed to go away, and never will. She tightened her grip on her mare's reins, trying to get a sense of where this feeling was. Her eyes closed, concentrating, feeling the energy of the world around her. There, she thought and turned her steed in that direction. The horse snorted in protest, it felt it too. Easy there, girl. Silva sent her calming energy to the beast by gently placing her hand on the mare's large neck. The horse felt more at ease and trotted ahead.

          Silva kept her sharp green eyes trained on her woodland surroundings. I know you're here somewhere. A sharp pain radiated through her side, causing her gasp. When the pain subsided, the feeling that came as quickly as it did, went. Her stomach returned to normal, and she lost the scent. She grunted and sat back on the mare. "And what did you hope to accomplish by this?" Said a smooth voice behind her. She didn't need to turn her head to know who the voice was coming from. Silva ignored him. From the back of the mare's saddle, a black cat sat, looking quite unamused by the situation, twitching his whiskers, and flicking the tip of his tail. "And what would happen if you ran into him?" The cat remarked, giving his black paws a groom.

          "Something, I suppose," She answered. The cat snorted, or what sounded like a snort. Silva frowned. "I don't owe you any answers." The cat didn't reply. Clucking her tongue, she urged her caramel colored horse forward. She knew the general direction her feelings were taking her if she could only pinpoint the exact location....

          "Isn't the cottage that way?" The cat pointed in the opposite direction with his tail. Again she ignored him. "You won't find him."

          "I don't expect to, Barlo," Silva finally answered. "He'll find me." Barlo twitched his tail. They rode on for several minutes longer, coming across nothing, that was until Barlo felt a ripple going down his spine, causing his hair to stick up on edge.

          "Silva..." Barlo stated, and she nodded.

          "I feel it too." The feeling in her stomach came back, but unlike her previous feeling, this made her stomach feel queasy from the stench of death invading her nose.

"I would suggest we turn back, but knowing you, we won't." Silva ignored Barlo's remark and continued onward. The mare snorted uneasily and trodden at the dirt below her. The horse wasn't going any further. Silva didn't need her steed to continue, for she could already see the massacre before her. The bodies were all brutally ripped and shredded apart. Silva took out a small velvet cloth from her dress pocket and held up to her nose as she walked among the slaughter.

          Each person were killed in similar ways. Chest ripped open, faces slashed, almost unrecognizable, their skins blackened. The smell of rotting flesh was already in the air. Flies hovered over the corpses. Ravens and a coyote or two snuck their way into the scene ready to have a feast. Silva had never seen so many bodies. She shook her head. Walking among the dead, Silva caught a glance at one of the men's shields. A faded, bloodstained coat of arms. Two wolves standing on their hindlegs snarling at each other. King's men, Silva realized as she turned in circles seeing the same emblem on each man's attire. 

"What's the royal army doing here?" Barlo voiced her thoughts from where he sat on the horse's saddle, watching Silva. She frowned, hating when the cat read her thoughts. Ignoring her small companion, she continued to walk along the graves until she spotted something out of the ordinary. Silva walked over to the something, or rather someone.

Unlike the rest of the men, the man that laid before Silva was untouched. The man was young, with handsome features on his face, almost too perfect, with chestnut hair. His clothing was different from the others. Instead of chain mail and chest plates, he wore a dark blue velvet shirt with dark  leather pants.

          Not a soldier, Silva conformed. A royal? Interesting. She bent down and placed her hand on the young man's shoulder. She felt the lifeforce that was still there. Barely. Thinking, Silva stood and walked over to the mare, guiding it over to the young royal's unconscious body. "What are you doing?" Barlo asked, seeing Silva struggling to heave the young royal onto the horse's back. He felt her exact thoughts. "What are you going to gain by saving him?" Giving it her all, Silva lifted the young man's upper body, placed his arms and head on the back of the horse, and with a grunt, she somehow managed to push the man onto the horse.

Grabbing the mare's rein, Silva began to guide the horse away from the gruesome scene. "Well, he's the only one that they didn't touch. He may have seen something that we're missing," She told Barlo, who growled. Again, she ignored him. Her mind was already set, if this man saw something, she was going to figure it out.