The night had been rather calm after the recent battle. Mikasa and Soka both sat upon their horses in silence, watching the former battlefield, with the lake of bodies lying stacked in an alarming fashion. Soka’s horse was led a few steps further, as the man leaned slightly forward, eyeing the dark valley.

 “How could it go so wrong?” Mikasa muttered to herself, though Soka picked up on it and turned 
around on his horse, facing her and sighning. The man couldn’t be a day above thirty, but his scared face and body spoke for itself. He was an experienced man, especially in war. He approached the Lady's steed and lowered his voice slightly as he spoke to her.
 “They didn't send a lot of reinforcement towards the battle, they prioritized defending the fort. And most of the men there, they weren't expecting a battle There had been nothing in six years, and the day of the celebration was the least expected day for it to happen. I apologize if you found our troops disappointing, Lady Mikasa.” His voice stiffened at that, watching the noble woman's response. Mikasa was slightly caught off guard, but quickly shook her head, the brunette hair following along.
 “No. I was simply surprised, that is all. I know our troops are most capable.” She grimaced, afraid that she might have offended the man. But she continued, before he was able to answer.
 “I didn't recall mentioning my heritage.” She eyed him carefully, inspecting his gaze briefly met hers. Soka simply rolled a shoulder, turning around again. “There aren't many Shuenaii Swordmaidens. And I have seen your face before.”  A breeze crossed their path, hissing slightly in its approach. Mikasa grabbed the reins with a firm grasp, an eyebrow raised in curiousity.

The two mountains surrounding the valley had been an eternal symbol, at least until this day. Supposedly defending Heroshida from any threats that should come to the nation. It was said, that in ancient time two titans guarded their sacred land for an eternity. They had according to the tale slain the mightiest of creatures in their time. Until a dragon, big as the sky and black as the bottom of the ocean, had attacked them, turning them both to stone in his attack. The Titans had banished the dragons with the last energy they had left. Forever, they stood defending the land, vowing to rise again if the dragon should return. Though as Mikasa admired their size, she dismissed it all as a children's tale. Her daydreaming was interrupted by Soka, waving her over. Hushing her, he pointed down towards the valley. Dark as it was, her eyes had attuned to the night. In the valley one could sense the sound and sight of … Something. A lone line of dust had risen in the trail of the creatures. “Do you speak Western, my Lady?” Soka calmly asked, seemingly being able to see more than she could. Mikasa nodded into the dark night, her heartbeat raising.. “I was taught, yes. Most of the other nobles who were young during the last war were.” A scoff was released from Soka, before he led his horse towards a small path down the mountain. 

Carefully the two descended the mountain, attempting to stay as silent as they could. For foreigners the mountain paths were unforgiving and harsh. A wrong decision or a second of hesitatation could easily result in the demise of the rider and his beast. Sharp turns and no safety, they were even rarely used by the natives.  Quickly they had moved down the mountain, and Mikasa could see the two figures in the valley more clearly. They were headed towards the Pass, and were most likely either terribly lost, or knew exactly where they were going. 
 “What do you intend on doing? Mikasa muttered out towards Soka, still following his horse as swiftly as she could. Soka quickly shifted his wieight back and forth, tapping his blade nonchalantly. “I intend to achieve the exact same thing as you, Your Grace.” Mikasa could almost sense the smirk on his face, just by the tone his words carried.
 “I'm going to get answers.”

They dismounted their horses further down, hiding them behind the lower part of the mountain, by the gigantic stones. Soka drew out a bow, arming himself with a quiver. Mikasa scoffed at the eager man, instinctively checking her own blade in the scabbard. Most Swordmaidens carried the traditional curvy blade of the Samurai, though some had turned to the simply straight swords instead. Mikasa had been given the choice as she had made her oath to the sword, and had originally fought with a single-edged straight sword. As a gift from her father, she had been given a fancier katana, engraved with the words of the family. Eventually she had decided to carry both into combat, being able to change between them as she pleased. But she had only brought the katana, not having expected to fight at all.

Without any intention of awaiting for her opinion, Soka pulled out an arrow and tightened the string, firing off an arrow into the dark night, aiming for the two riders. It was almost as if time froze in the moment, Mikasa almost smelling the stench of the man craving revenge.