Into exile

Kirianth kept her eyes on the road ahead.  She sat easily in the saddle, her body long tuned to the rhythm of Freyt’s steps.  She blanked out her mind to keep a riot of emotions at bay, feelings that could serve no purpose here and now.  A frontal attack did not concern her much.  Freyt could and would defend them both.  If it did come, an arrow in the back would be its most likely presentation.  Not, she surmised, that she could do much against any attack with no armor and no weapons.