[h1] Cerid Arryl [/h1]

Nightmare tossed his head, striking the ground beneath his great hooves as he sensed his rider's anger. Green eyes darkened as the druid looked down on Camelot. On her shoulder the merlin gave a partial cry, fluttering wings in anticipation. Raising a hand to stroke the bird's feathers, the woman let out a breathe. People were streaming in and out, going about business as usual. Never mind the lives that were paid for them to have a satisfied king. "Síþ bescéawe, níedfréond." With a beat of wings the bird soared towards the rising towers, Cerid lifted her head proudly. "Soon, I shall have the power and you shall have nothing. Brytencyning eorðe mearhcofan." The horse tossed his head again, tugging at the reins. "Ai, ai." The red haired fury scolded. "We hunt soon enough, níedfréond! The chase shall begin." She laughed once more as the reins loosened in her grasp. The black horse took his head and turned from Camelot, racing through the bush in with a glee born of the running and the rush of air. Though she shouldn't condone this, Cerid laughed as urged her mount on. The thrill of the thunder of hooves filled her ears as she clung to Nightmare's neck. There would be vengence, but for now there was the glee of the hunt, of the running. 

Sharply pulling up after a short time, both girl and horse paused hearing more it's kin through the emerald forest. Pausing she egged the stud on, slowly. Taking hesitant steps the horse paused as a party of riders came into view far below on the rough path. Camelot's symbol shone on the guard's livery. A feast was going on? They were lamenting their duty and talking wistfully of a feast for a potential wedding. Her lip curled in disgust, though Nightmare longed to shift under her angered hands he knew better. Easing the bow from her back as she set the reins in her teeth, hooking the string. They would not leave to see this feast. The jingle of horse harness and hooves, signaled three more joining the party. Too many to take on, but a arrow was notched on the string. Pausing she narrowed her eyes, too many to take on. Her best option was to flee. To separate one from the pack of human wolves. 

But she had waited too late as one looked up calling in alarm, "Hoy there! Poacher!" Of course she was a poacher, a woman in hunting leathers and a bow of beauty. She rolled her eyes as she slid the arrow and bow away, setting Nightmare to a run. However the hellion had other ideas. Down the bank he crashed, to the path way and sent the nearest horse staggering to the side as he barreled into it's side. A quick nip and turn of his hooves, the stallion raced away. Behind her the guards gave chase. They were good riders and their horses fine, but she knew every inch of these woods since taking residence within them. Leading them away from her humble abode she played the fox in the merry hunt. Her horse surging and racing beneath her at his leisure. It took all her might to hold him to a reasonable speed. There was no reason to not lead them from her hut. Rather they look on the far side of the forest if they looked at all. Her hood thankfully sheltered her mass of red hair and face from their view. A small blessing. 

But as time and the run wore on, she brought the horse to a pause, clinging to his back as he fought to keep running and not rest in the sheltered glen. A small cave made of the branches of thickets. The cover was dense enough she would not be spotted so easily and the brush about here sparse enough she could have gone any which way. As they passed the troop of guards slowed muttering indecisively to themselves. Straining her ears to hear their words after laying a soothing and stern hand on her mount's lathered neck, Cerid frowned deeply. They spoke of whether she was poacher, druid, or perhaps they had simply ran into a young noble lady who wasn't suppose to be out. Either way they looked at things, all agreed that it would be best to take it to their Captain and let the matter get sorted out. She reclined back in the saddle, the men leaving for the city. Poor men, she was glad she did not let her anger take their lives. Killing them would bring her no further to Uther. They were just pawns in a greater game and she was a fool to have considered their deaths worth it. Another part of her mind pointed out that they did work for Uther and if she was found out they would gladly hunt her down and slay her. Closing her eyes as the sound of hooves receded she berated herself. Was innocent life really meant to be spilled to get at Uther Pendragon? It had been a question she had warred herself with for near fifteen years. Lo, she still was no nearer the answer. Waiting a tad longer, she finally agreed no hunt was coming and set the black horse towards home. They would report her and all they would find would be a clever little peasant. It was time to turn her sight towards the illusionary magics. Yes, it was past time to do so.