Okey-Dokey, for the sake of the plot, let's say Marius, Combeferre and Gavroche have been riding along for a few hours.

Disclaimer: Uhh (I'm really running low on creative disclaimers) I'm not a dead French author named Victor Hugo, and if I am, COOL! I made a masterpiece! 8D

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"Are we there yet?" Gavroche asked impatiently as the horses plodded along a forest road.

"No," Combeferre said tiredly.

"Are we there yet?"

"No,"

"Are we there yet?"

"Yes,"

"Really?"

"No,"

"When are we going to get there?"

"I don't know," Combeferre answered

Marius shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, "Honestly, do you know how long we'll be riding?"

"Not a clue," Combeferre replied mildly.

"That's great to know, doc! Way to inspire confidence!" Gavroche said, annoyed.

"Don't blame me! You didn't have to come," Combeferre retorted.

"Let's call it a night," Marius said shyly, "The horses are probably tired and we can find an inn somewhere around here,"

Gavroche shook his head vigorously, "Trust me, you do not want to stay at a tavern in the middle of nowhere,"

"Why?" Marius asked.

"Innkeepers are slime. The rooms are dirty and pricey. The people there are drunk and noisy. We'll probably be robbed blind before dawn," Gavroche said, counting off each on his fingers, "Oh, have I mentioned that Innkeepers are slime?"

"Yes, but Gavroche we're--"

"Hold that thought, Combeferre," Marius interrupted, "Look at that," he pointed to a clearing on the side of the path where there sat a large pile of tree limbs.

"That's strange," Combeferre said, distracted from his debate with a nine-year old.

Gavroche hopped off the horse and headed over to the clearing, "Ya know, I'd bet good money that Blond-o was here,"

"What makes you say that?" Marius asked, also dismounting and following the child to the pile.

"The shoe prints," Gavroche said simply, "And I haven't seen a carriage since we left Paris," The child pointed down the road a ways to four deep circular rifts in the dirt made by the desperate and reckless driver of the Enjolras' carraige.

"He's right, Combeferre," Marius said, "Take a look,"

Combeferre climbed off his horse and walked over to the two.

"What do you make of it?" Marius asked, picking up a piece of splintered wood.

"Well there are signs of a struggle," Combeferre picked up a segment of a large branch, "If the branches fell naturally, it would be rotted at least," he tossed the branch away and stooped down, "Considering the isolation of this road, I'd say that-," Combeferre walked back to the road, reenacting what he thought happened, "Enjolras made a run for it," He jogged towards the damaged tree, "Climbed this," Combeferre grabbed what was left of a limb, "Fell," Combeferre then plopped down on the ground, laying on his back, "He was most likely knocked unconscious from the fall or something along those lines and then," Combeferre sat up and looked at the ground that he had just laid on, seeing two long, straight skid marks leading back to the path, "Was dragged away?"

"So in other words they were here?" Marius asked, confused at the long explanation.

"Yeah, that's the basic gist of it," Combeferre said, brushing a leaf from his sleeve.

"Have you ever considered being a detective?" Marius asked, helping Combeferre to his feet.

"A police officer? Of course not, I'd rather cure illnesses than drop kick criminals,"

Gavroche smirked, "Well done, Sherlock, but we just wasted quite a bit of time,"

Combeferre dusted his pants off, "I thought you wanted a break from riding,"

"I didn't want to watch you do a one-man-show," Gavroche said suppressing a laugh.

"I—" Suddenly the sound of pounding horse hooves filled the air.

"What is that?" Marius asked, concerned as the three ran to the road and were immediately greeted with the sight of machete man on an enormous black charger.

"Yer gonna give me back my horses even if I haveta rip off yer arms form 'em!" He screamed madly as he charged towards them.

"How did he find us?" Combeferre demanded, quickly pulling himself onto the saddle of one of the horses and nudging it into a gallop.

Marius yelled in an incoherent, slightly spazzy tone as he scrambled up onto the other pony.

"Shut up and F&!#IN' RUN!" Gavroche cried, doing a flying leap onto Marius' trusty steed and giving the animal a swift kick, sending it flying down the path.

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Personally, I'm not too happy with this chapter, I've gots a painful cough and a sore throat and I leaped through hoops to get this written, but I promised a check-in with the fellas, and I'm happy because people seem to like this fic. 8D

But anypuddles, now I'm going to do something that all good authors do before they die; Beg for feedback. REVIEW!! I get really happy when I get reviews, so cheer up a poor High School kid and drop a word of wisdom in the review bucket. Thank ya kindly!