Follow the Footprints
Ebony crept, following the footprints. A shadow caught her attention. A centaur with an axe.
“You! Hold! Murderer!” she shouted.
The centaur turns, blood dripping off his clothes, dark magic hanging about him. “You call me murderer but your husband killed my sister.”
“Who?” Ebony asks.
“Silvian Steadfast.”
“Steadfast? We know no Steadfast! What did her killer do for a profession?”
“Why, he was a baker of course!” the centaur frowns.
Ebony’s blood boils in her veins. “My husband was a hunter! You killed the wrong man!” Then with a quick flick of her wrist, her ebony knife flew from her hand and hit the centaur square in the forehead, killing him instantly. Ebony had had her revenge.
END.
Ebony crept, following the footprints. A shadow caught her attention. A centaur with an axe.
“You! Hold! Murderer!” she shouted.
The centaur turns, blood dripping off his clothes, dark magic hanging about him. “You call me murderer but your husband killed my sister.”
“Who?” Ebony asks.
“Silvian Steadfast.”
“Steadfast? We know no Steadfast! What did her killer do for a profession?”
“Why, he was a baker of course!” the centaur frowns.
Ebony’s blood boils in her veins. “My husband was a hunter! You killed the wrong man!” Then with a quick flick of her wrist, her ebony knife flew from her hand and hit the centaur square in the forehead, killing him instantly. Ebony had had her revenge.
END.