“Where was it you said you trailed her scent to?” Conroy asked, his fist curled around the reins of his horse.

　　In the darkness that was barely lit by the sliver of moonlight, Arian turned whilst on his horse to face Conroy, “It is just a little more ahead. Where the footpath meets the wood.”

　　Conroy grunted.

　　They rode along side by side in a comfortable silence that was akin to old friends who had known each other for way too long to need lazy ...