Attitude

“So,” Borox walked up to Ryder atop his horse and took hold of the reins. “No detours anymore, I’m guessing?”

Ryder glanced over at Lyra, who was being helped to mount her horse. She had agreed to the sacrifice and with that, he knew a part of him had died. He shook his head to respond to Borox. “No, no detours.”

She sat on the horse and picked up the reins, adjusting the fur cloak she had requested for to protect herself from the cold. They all stood by the cave’s entrance, looking out, she, Ryder, Borox and about a dozen of his men were ready for the long ride to Fang Peek.

“Erstonia lies in between this place and Fang Peek, is that correct?” Lyra asked Ryder as they eased their horses outside of the cave, behind them, Borox followed with his men.

“That is correct,” Ryder answered her question. He could feel her coldness towards him and he hated it, the not caring attitude she had now developed was something he was sure he would never get used to. But then he sighed, he would not be