The Prince’s Flight

He fled into Refugee Wood, the King’s Harriers close behind. His bare, bloody feet left an unmistakable trail but surely, he thought, they would not follow — not through these stout trunks and twisted branches. He paused to breathe and prayed in panted bursts to every god he could remember for mercy.

A voice rose behind him, hard as stone and hungry as the grave. “Come back, our Prince! Give us your heart!”

He squeaked involuntarily and his terror shamed him. The jangling of harness and bloody armor startled him into flight again.

He fled through the woods.

The Harriers followed.

I think I could have written three different stories from this week’s challenge prompt, and I’m not quite sure I chose the right one. You can tell me what you think. In fact, you should! I’ll never get better if you don’t tell me what works and what doesn’t right?

Also, if you think about it, let me know your thoughts on the new site! I still have a couple more things I want to do and, right now, I’m limited in a couple areas because I’m using the free plan. That will change, I expect, over the next couple of months.