Circling the battlefield are the countless Vultures, the Drudges of the land, picking off the remains of the fallen. They peck and tear at anything in view, and the dirty wraith weaving between the bodies was no exception. She plucked anything she could find from the dead. Her hood pulled far over her auburn curls; she bent over to retrieve a substantial Sapphire ring stuck to a finger buried deep in a pile of bodies. All the while dreaming how different her life could be if she could pry this jewel out. Dreams, that's how everything is created and decided.
*
All Garret could remember from his childhood was running along the river bank, and laughing while he watched the other kids climb across the opposite shore. He wished to follow, but his father would not allow such rough play. Heaven forbid his only heir to the throne is swept down the stream. He was content to watch his friends, The Duke of Merrill's children, reach the opposite shore. They giggled and waved, and ran to the woods to gather berries for dessert! Sitting and waiting he watched the clouds change form. A loud thud sounded to Garret's left, "Stop throwing berries at me" he yelled back. Bending over to pick up the treat, he noticed it was covered in a sticky substance. Not the normal smooth maroon color. Holding it up to his face for inspection, it was a tiny finger.
*
Garret awoke screaming in pain, climbing his way out from under a pile of bodies, his ring finger was half cut from his knuckle. His Signet Ring was gone. Rage in his eyes he pushed to his feet, shakily scanning his surroundings. All he could spot was a cloaked figure running towards the high ground. Tucking his wounded hand into his coat Garret sprinted off, he stumbled on his first attempt, tripping over the remains of his lieutenant. Gathering strength from anger, he bolted after the fleeing figure. Leaping onto his back halfway up the hill, they rolled the length back down. He pinned the figure underneath his broad chested frame and began to pound his face with Garrets good hand.
"Give it back, Thief." He barked
(Nothing)
Grabbing his neck the hood flew back, revealing a very unconscious and blooded feminine face.
Stunned, the Prince released his thief and her head flew to the ground in a loud thump. He ripped the hood off to reveal mud splattered auburn curls surrounding a dirty face. Ripping an end of her shirt, quickly he bandaged his damaged finger, noticing shapely legs poking out from under the missing fabric. Glancing up, her lips were parted in an almost pout.
