Tristan awoke, cold and sore, but made no complaints. This was something he'd have to get used to, without any doubt. The bed chambers and banquets that he was accustomed to were already far behind, and there was no backing out, either. If he wanted to keep his head, at least. Not that he would ever seriously consider it. The Duke, from what Tristan knew of him, was a good man.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the rest of his party mounted their horses and got ready to set off. He did the same.

[hr]
Most of the morning's journey was spent putting landmarks of their journey to mind. A stone shaped like a wolf here, a tree that twisted at an impossible angle there; it was mostly just to pass the time, given he wasn't in the mood for conversation. He was mostly thinking. His eye fell on the back of Aurélie - she thought him a burden, no doubt. Did any of them even know who he was? What his reasons for being here were? Or did they just think he was some simpering nobleman, full of ego?

Well, they weren't wrong. He had no experience with this kind of work. He was confident he could pull his weight but had nothing to back his words up. In the end, it came down to-

What was that?

Tristan made his horse come to a halt. He focused on the trees, on the canopy, on everything... he couldn't hear anything.

He couldn't hear anything. 

He turned on his horse to report it to his companions - but they were gone. Where had they gotten to?! They were just here!

"Hello?! Ser Giles?! Anyone?!"

A twig snapped, and his heart jumped out of his chest. He looked back to the forest. Not even ten paces away, he saw a large, scarred brown bear. His eyes locked with its own. They weren't a normal bear's eyes. And a normal bear wouldn't be standing so completely still near a human. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Being as careful as he could to not look away, he subtly reached for his crossbow and started pulling back the string. But as he fit a bolt to the flight groove, he saw something else in the corner of his eye. His head snapped to face the second bear - and he knew he'd made a mistake. The first bear let out a roar, and his horse spooked. Twisted in the saddle as he was, Tristan was unable to maintain his seating. He tumbled to the ground, and though he got back to his feet quickly enough, the mare was long gone.

He turned to face the bears. Though solitary creatures, these two seemed to have no issue sharing a meal as they snarled and grunted, slowly making their way towards him. Looking between them, Tristan realised that his situation was dire. His sword was still tied to his horse, as was his quiver of bolts. Leaving him with just the crossbow and a singular bolt.

"Damn it all to Hell." he murmured. 

He could take down one, but the other would surely get him in the seconds that it took for him to reload the bolt. And that was if he landed a killing shot at all. His options were limited. And he hated that he'd gotten into this situation. But there was nothing for it.

He twisted on his heels and ran.