Buckland

Author’s Note: This piece was shaped with a little help from AI. It provided assistance on things like the structuring, some names, shortening some verbose language/ideas as I'd written, and gave me the odd turn of phrase here and there.

Relief flooded Eira as Nimraph charged in. She stepped back, chosing to be defense while Nimraph attacked. She shouted, "Get lost! My husband won't show the same mercy I have!" 

One of the men hestated, taking a step back. The other let out a battle cry and charged Nimraph. Eira backed into the wagon, aware of Dammon crying. Meanwhile, the second robber had turned and fled.

It had been just once she had left.

Just once she left the safety of her hideaway.

She had a guard with her, she stayed off road, she wore camouflaging attire. She should have been safe.

But no.

There she stood, facing the man she had run away from, hidden from, for so long...

It was after the market a week ago that I noticed some of my works were beginning to be missing from my stock. I hadn't noticed until the raid upon the lumber-camp some few days ago. A group of brigands encamped in the Chetwood came upon us like a pack of mongrels. I grabbed my axe and charged out the door, dazed in the midst of it while I struggled to realize what was happening. A man in leather had come upon me, I jabbed my elbow into his gut and hit him with the blunt point of my axe.