Fenn didn’t know what to make of the dark-mannered warrior they left behind. The little fae didn’t know him well enough to cheer him on in his endeavor, but he also wasn’t rooting for Myra to bring him to his doom. More blood would be shed...

Regardless, the hunter was gone now.

From his recently-renewed perch, Fenn grinned. They were gone now. Gone from Myra, gone from danger. Back to the village, back to Daugi, back to safety. Today had been a wild mess. He was eager to find some grub and just take a rest from it; seeing what all he could do with his frosty affinity could wait another day. A growl rose in his stomach.

The boy couldn’t say when they would near the village — he hadn’t explored this part of Akishima enough to know — but he did keep his eyes sharp. Buggy solid greens scanned the vegetation diligently. Eventually, Fenn spotted a movement in the distance; the arch of a graceful neck, the prick of two frightened ears, the anxious swish of a snow-white tail. The horse there were searching for stood tall among the trees in the instant that the boy spotted her. She shuffled hesitantly in place, perhaps recognizing the Breaker enough not to flee. Wordlessly, the boy tugged on Breaker’s collar and pointed her out with his other hand. They came to a swift halt.