I know. That's why I got this too.

Chapter Two

Two Horsemen
Aka Radium suxorz at drawing horses


The cold wind blew through the seemingly uninhabitable swamps. It tangled around ancient decaying the bones of those who had not found their way though, brushed though the tall grass-like plants, before finally vanishing into nothingness. The Swamps of the Lost - appropriately named - were more like a jungle this time of year. While in a forest or jungle, one would see colorful flowers hanging from the plants and rocks like fireworks, the Swamps were simply endless green all around, contrasted by a splash of brown where the occasional tree had not yet been overcome by moss.
Against a boulder a primitive shelter had been constructed. It was a simple tent, made from tree branches and various wild animal hides. In front of the shelter, a humanoid feline was attempting to start a fire, more successfully than many could do with two sticks. Her entire body was shrouded in dark gray fur, and he had long hair of that same color. She wore a loose animal skin shirt and pants, hopefully from a normal animal - not someone she didn't like. Her eyes appeared to illuminate an ominous shade of purple, reflecting even the tiniest bit of light off their smooth surfaces.
The wood began to smoke slightly when she stopped moving. Her left ear moved slightly as her glistening eyes shot to her left. Though many would be unable to hear it, the noise of breaking twigs echoed through the air. Two swift flashes, like horses galloping, passed behind the trees before her. Breaking the calmness of believing to watch unnoticed, she felt something breathing down her back and let out a yelp of surprise.
Behind her, a knight in full armor was mounted on a small white horse. The light passing throug
h the tall trees bounced off his silver armor, practically making it seem the same color as his horse. He moved his armored hand to his face and flipped up his helmet's mask, the large yellow feather in back briefly shaking at almost the same rhythm as the tree branches. He, too, was feline, but more muscular - maybe a tiger of sorts.
"State your name and occupation, soldier!" He stated militaristically. His voice sounded noble, but so much so it appeared he was trying quite hard to sound that way.
"Forrever," she responded, " I work as a pathfinder, for these swamps," Though there was a pun associated with her name, she didn't feel like explaining it. Frequent travelers sometimes said "it would take Forrever to get through the swamps", and they definitely meant it.
The knight looked somewhat confused about her name, but continued talking regardless "Have you seen a man pass through here recently? Tall, of unidentified species, with a deep scar across one eye, likely accompanied by several undead? And did you assist him though in any way?"
Forrever turned back to the two sticks she was attempting to start a fire with. "I generally don't give out information on those who I'm paid to help," she began, "but I can't say I really like the undead. Charged him a bit extra." If the knight kept persisting, she didn't see any harm in telling him where this man went. After all, all she did was tell him the direction of the nearest village. Regardless, she didn't want to take sides in any battles, so she changed the subject. "Do you need help getting out of here?"
A hooded figure in a brown robe, also mounted on a horse, strode up beside the knight. At first, Forrever couldn't tell if it was male or female. As it began to speak, it's voice didn't help much, though it did seem a little more male than female. "Sir," he inquired, "perhaps we do need some assistance escaping-"
"Alkin", the knight said as he turned, "You aren't here to make decisions for me. You're here to heal me when I'm injured," the knight turned his head away stubbornly, "and that's all."
Forrever laughed slightly, but noticeably, at the thought. Either the knight or his superiors had been so confident he'd be injured, they sent a healer priest along with him.
In a flash the knight's head turned to Forrever. "Here me, Miss Longtime or whatever, I'm the great grandson of the famous Sir Josiah the First," he began, "father of the slightly more famous Sir Josiah the Second," Forrever looked behind him, at Alkin. Alkin's shoulders were slouched forward exaggeratingly as his tail, brown with a black ring, swished back in forth, almost like the pendulum of a clock. Perhaps that was what he wanted it to look like.
"So, you're Sir Josiah the Fourth?" Forrever interrupted.
"No, actually that's my brother," The knight looked in a random direction angrily, "You may call me Sir Gillion."
"Sir Gillion," Alkin began, "If there's nothing to be gained here, maybe we should start trying to find our way out. Who knows, maybe I'll get an opportunity to heal the Great Sir Gillion!"
Gillion turned a U-turn on his horse. "Whatever you say," he mumbled as he galloped off. Almost immediately, his head smashed into a low tree branch. "I don't need to be healed yet!" he called back to Alkin, straightening his helmet with his free hand.
"I guess I'd better be leaving," Alkin started, also turning around, "It's been nice meeting you, Forrever," He paused a second, trying to locate the direction Gillion had gone off in. He quickly found it, and said "Go on, Derby!" to his horse. The horse responded almost immediately by carrying him off into the distance.
"They'll be back," Forrever thought to herself. As she turned back to her fire, she noticed a small red flower growing on a rock. It was definitely the most noticeable thing in this all-green swamp. Small yellow streaks across the flower's red surface were distorted by the tiny round dew drops sliding off. Forrever plucked the flower off and let it fall into the opaque swamp. She liked the green color scheme.