The tall knight, dressed in the black armour of his Order, sat down near a large ok tree, the massive trunk would ensure no attack from behind, and he could see clearly enough, thanks to the shade the branches of the ancient tree created, protecting his pale green eyes from the blinding mid day sun.
His large helmet was placed on the ground beside him, the white plume, made from three feathers taken from the wing of a swan, was stained and carried several flecks of blood. With his helmet removed, the long, curly hair of the night loose around his shoulder. Also looking matted and dirty, his face carried the signs of a man living in woods for too long.
"I hope they decide to rest tonight", he thought to himself, "I have been chased for too long, and could do with a rest." He had been chased for nearly two weeks now, in the endless forest, the large, heavy built trolls never giving him respite for that entire time, he had run almost constantly.
The large pack of twenty trolls seemed never to tire as they continued their pursuit endlessly. However, the large knight was growing tired, and his armour was beginning to dull, the polish fading from the surface of the heavy metal structure.
As he sat near the tree, he watched as he his large, black war horse drank from the river, envious that the horse could drink from that source of water when he could not. The water in this forest being unfit for humans, he dared not partake, even as his steed rehydrated itself.
No food was to be found in these woods, for only poisonous berries and the large trees, bearing no fruit in the height of summer, were the only things to grow there.
Looking at his steed, he spoke to the animal, "I know nothing swims in those waters, friend, but if you find anything, even the smallest goldfish, please bring it to me." As he finished those words, he silently cursed himself, "You fool, speaking out loud in this momentary respite, the damn trolls will bloody hear you."
Sure enough, as he spoke those words, from a distance he heard the sound of great bellowing horns, signalling that the trolls were once moving towards him, sounding after sounding, the pack communicating, preparing to hunt him once more.
Standing quickly, he placed his helmet upon his head once more, and lowering the visor he hid his face. Then, letting out a small, short whistle, he ran towards his steed, the horse looking up at the sound. The head of the horse rose just as the knight jumped onto the saddle.
Kicking the sides of the horse as he drew the rains to spin the animal around, the knight spoke quietly as he lowered himself on the horse's neck, "Sorry, friend, we must run once more." And with that, he brought the horse to a gallop, running through the forest, the knight hoped that he would not have to contend with the trolls and that the distance between them would mean he would stay ahead.
"Damn these trolls," his voice was bitter inside his head. Bitterness towards the forsaken creatures who hunted him. Bitterness at his own follishness for entering the forest in the first place.
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