[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230112/708cdcbd8f2adb4ddee36951523c7257.png[/img][/center] Clive rode swiftly upon his spectral steed, the wind whipping through his hair as they raced towards an unknown destination that somehow called to the resurrected farm boy. Zigmund - the dark figure shrouded in black and encased in metal, Clive couldn't help but remember the brutal and swift strength of that man. The thought made him urge on the ethereal spirit of his beloved riding horse. Daisy complied with a shake of her mane, picking up her pace into a full gallop the wind screeching in Clive's ears, whipping through his hair forced to squint he leaned forward atop his steed. Thoughts of the strangers he awoke with in the coffins back in the village some time ago lingered in his thoughts, feeling a sense of imminent danger for them as he raced across the fields of the northern planes that dotted Mytheria. Their journey had yet to have been that long, cut short for him he never quite knew if they had reached their destination and like hell he was gonna bury the hatchet yet not when he had a second chance. "[color=F1B338]I'm coming you lot...Wherever the heck ya'll are..I'm coming for you Zigmund.[/color]" as they rode ever more closer through the hills and dales, he swore to make Zigmund pay if the folks he would hope to call his friends came to harm. And he promised himself he'd look after them, especially that troublesome boy - Zell, that's his name, kid seemed to be something of a free spirit or maybe a bit too free Clive thought to himself with a slight smirk, though it seemed the others tempered him a little like MacKenzie. Clive couldn't think of someone more screwed tighter than the deadlock bolt on an old shed door, though she had a bit of a temper on her she was a good genuine person that he knew everyone could depend on especially that Adam fella or James. Both men seemed to need all the confidence they could get both put in positions that forced them to make the big decisions Clive knew it must have been something of a burden if they blamed themselves for one of their own lot dying. Then he remembered one last person - Fenna, and the tug of a smile pulled at the corners of Clive's mouth and he recalled a couple times they fought side by side. Helping that child and mother, talking as they journeyed away from the village they helped evacuate. Clive felt a little bad he never warmed up to the other, truthfully he had still been in internal shock but he promised once he found them he'd be on them like a fly on honey. He wondered if they were all okay, and hoped he wouldn't be too late as he kept inching closer and closer to the beckoning call of the ethereal string he felt tugging at him. Few other thoughts lingered upon his conscience, lingering doubts and a concern - he wondered if some before had fallen like he had. Yet the farmer shook aside the thoughts for the time, he had to catch Zigmund and make sure he never lifted a finger again this time permanently.