"Here, Dandelion." Josh called softly, splaying his palms. He could feel Fenn miming the same action. "That's a good girl," he said as the horse wickered and moved toward them. He extended a gentle hand and allowed the horse to nuzzle him. "You ride, Fennik." He hoisted the little fae onto the horse's saddle. "We'd best be on our way, and swiftly. Myra's or not, there could be more wolves around."

Nighttime had finally fallen, but a sliver of moon provided enough light for the sharp-eyed adventurers to make their way. They ventured carefully at first, like foals on their first legs, but once they gained the trail Dandelion kicked to a trot which Breaker matched effortlessly. Four metal horseshoes and two metal boots kicked up snow and dirt as they dared to canter, over slopes and past trees and around perilous corners. Breaker kept close to the horse's side, in case the Fae should fall, but the child-sized being showed a surprising aptitude for riding, even though his feet could not reach the stirrups.

They raced against the wind, and the knowledge of what they had left behind; a battle between lore guardian and mortal which could have no happy ending. Breaker gritted his teeth at the memory of Azaranth trudging past him, on his way to take his revenge or die trying. The human had potentially sealed his fate the moment he chose to hunt Myra in the first place, and Myra had a right to her own consequences, for fennnapping a fae from a village of mortals. Whichever of them lived would at least think twice before stepping out of line again. That was what Breaker told himself.

He had saved the fae, that was what truly mattered.

The battle between Myra and the mortal was their business alone.