With the freezing wind blowing through his hair, Stick rode hard towards the southwest exit, his eyes flicking constantly over his shoulder. Each glance confirmed the same thing: the Lords were on their way to the southern exit, just as planned. Relief mingled with anxiety in his chest. It was a good thing he was the one to take the horse to Smith. Now Shadis could look after the twins if anything else went wrong with their plan. He found it strange how surprised everyone had been to see him handle the horse so easily, despite his lack of formal training. Must be a Player thing. No time to dwell on it now.

Stick looked back one last time, seeing the massive pillar of smoke rising from the burning shanty town. Hopefully, they’ve got it under control.

That damn fire. Everything went wrong that day, but it was the enormous fire that went off too soon that bothered Stick the most. Even if they succeeded with the escape, they had done a lot of damage to the ones that decided to stay behind. No, not ‘us’. Someone did that. Someone who knew about the plan. A traitor.

Stick’s thoughts were interrupted the moment he arrived at the palisade. The sounds of ferocious Dire Wolves tearing into the scraps of meat being thrown over the wall reached his ears. Smith was there, just as they’d planned, tossing the last of the bait to keep the beasts occupied.

“About time you showed up!” Smith called out as Stick dismounted, his tone laced with impatience. “I’m running out of bait.”

“Let’s get moving then,” Stick replied, urgency clear in his voice.

“What’s up with that fire? You can’t even see the mansion from here,” Smith said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“There’s no time to explain! Let’s get those wolves in!” Stick snapped, not wanting to waste another second.

Smith didn’t press further, sensing the tension. He walked a few feet away from the entrance, out of sight of the wolves, and raised the last pieces of meat high above his head.

“You ready?” he asked.

Stick could hear the impatient, hungry growls on the other side of the wall. A knot of worry twisted in his gut, but he forced himself to nod. He couldn’t afford to show any fear. Without another word, Smith flung the meat over the wall and rushed back towards Stick. The wolves went berserk, snarling and howling as they fought each other for the scraps. The frenzy was terrifying, but there was no time to think about it. Stick and Smith hurried to lift the defence and open an entrance. As they did, a massive maul pushed through the gap, its bloodshot eyes locked on the mansion grounds.

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“Shit!” Smith cursed. “That’s too soon! Way too soon!”

“Don’t you have anything left?” Stick asked, panic creeping into his voice.

“Nothing!” Smith shouted back.

The wolves piled up against the opening, their hunger driving them to reckless ferocity. One of them got impaled on the spikes, letting out a deafening growl that spooked the horse. The mount reared up, trying to bolt.

“Fuck!” Smith yelled. “Stick, get the horse!”

Stick hesitated, the danger of leaving Smith alone against the wolves weighing heavily on him. “It’s too dangerous!” he protested.

Smith flashed a grim smile. “Don’t worry! I know how to get on a moving horse.”

The horse started to pick up speed, its panic growing.

“Come on! It’s more dangerous to run on foot!”

Reluctantly, Stick agreed and took off after it, calling out repeatedly until he finally managed to catch up. He grabbed the reins, struggling to calm the frantic animal before leading it back towards the palisade. Smith was wrestling with the spikes, the wolves clawing and snapping through the gap.

“Turn it around! We have to get out of here fast!” he shouted.

Stick brought the horse as close as he dared, trying not to spook it again.

“Let’s go!” he called out to Smith.

“Alright!” Smith shouted back. “Here it comes!”

Smith released the spikes and immediately the wolves poured through, their massive forms tearing into the space with terrifying speed. The horse panicked, rearing up and trying to flee.

“Hold on!” Stick yelled, barely managing to keep his seat as Smith sprinted towards him.

image [https://i.imgur.com/GpctxKo.jpeg]

But the wolves were on them in an instant. Smith cried out as their teeth sank into his legs, making him stumble a few feet. Another two sank their humongous teeth into his arms, this time with blood spraying across the ground. With a desperate effort, he broke free and ran, his wounds slowing him down. Stick leaned over, extending an arm, and just as Smith reached him, he pulled him up onto the horse. But the wolves weren’t done. One lunged forward, biting into the horse’s flank, causing it to scream in terror. The horse bolted, the men clinging to its back as it galloped away, the wolves in hot pursuit. Stick struggled to keep the mount under control, feeling it weaken beneath them, blood pouring from its wound. Smith was bleeding heavily too, his face pale and twisted in pain.

“This is bad,” Stick muttered, his voice tight with fear.

But there was no time to think about that. They had to keep moving, had to get as far away from the wolves as possible. The horse was their only chance, wounded or not, it had to keep running. And they had to survive.