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[center][h1][b][color=gold][u]Zahrat al-Kuthban[/u][/color][/b][/h1][/center] 
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The Zahrat al-Kuthban eventually made her way to Somerset, the great matriarchal gryphon shadowed her every step. More than once she had considered the temptation of riding such a magnificent creature, but the thought of leaving her horse behind, vulnerable, or worse, at the mercy of the beast was enough to dissuade her. Besides, there was something in the peacock gryphon’s steady watchfulness that suggested no saddle would ever be tolerated.

The rest of her journey had been mercifully uneventful, save for the sharp decline in her rations. She had no intention of trusting the creature to sustain itself solely on its own hunts, not with her horse, her falcon, and even herself all possible items on its menu. The price of its companionship was a steadily dwindling supply of dried meat and bread, yet for now it seemed satisfied to stalk at the edge of her path.

As the roads curved nearer to Somerset, she began to notice signs of others gathering. A [colour=crimson]knight[/colour] led a band of warriors down the winding track, their torches flaring orange in the night, while smaller groups of travellers trudged along with companions of their own. Though she had a head start compared to many of them, she knew haste alone would not guarantee safety. Pausing, she let her falcon take flight, the bird spiralling upward to survey the surrounding countryside. What it revealed troubled her: the night was quieter than it should have been, the stillness almost oppressive, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

It was that sound, the owl’s call, that drew her eyes toward a flicker of firelight. A campsite lay just outside the town, its flames dancing low, food boiled in a pot, and figures moving in its glow. With deliberate calm, she urged her horse forward, her posture tall and composed, even as the gryphon padded after her like a silent shadow.

She raised her hand in salute as she approached, [colour=gold]“Greetings, fellow travellers,”[/colour] she said evenly. [colour=gold]“The road is silent tonight. Silence is either a gift of fortune or the echo of something hunting.”[/colour]