No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

Gilan glanced back only once at the group of loud, laughing Battleschool apprentices before eagerly wandering deeper into the woods. He didn't mind them, really - they were all kind to him, and despite his only being ten, they tried their best to include him in their antics.

That being said, there was only so long of listening to discussions about class and complaints about certain instructors that an already flighty, distractible ten-year-old could take, and Gilan had just reached his limit.

He would only be a few minutes, Gilan promised himself. Just a few minutes to explore while the boys finished talking. A small niggling feeling of doubt gnawed at the back of his mind as he recalled what his father had firmly told him before the boys left camp - "You're to stay close to the others, Gilly. Don't leave their sight and stay in earshot."

Gilan's footsteps faltered for only a second. He would be hardly out of eyesight, the boy convinced himself, and he certainly would be within earshot. It was fine.

If he had been a little older, a little less hurried, and a little less eager to rationalize his plan, Gilan might have realized the flaws in it; the fact that it was steadily growing darker, the fact that the thick forest easily muffled noises, and the fact that he had neglected to tell any of the others that he was planning to leave.

As it was, the weakness of the plan was overshadowed by impulse.

David smiled as the boys stomped into camp, his eyes searching the group for his own son. A second later, the smile faded to a frown as the Battlemaster realized that Gilan wasn't with them. "Cade?" he called, and the boy turned to face the Battlemaster, his stance immediately shifting into parade position. Even when on an informal hunting trip, David was still the Battlemaster, and strict training died hard. David, upon receiving the boy's attention, continued, "Where's Gilan?"

"You mean he's not here?" Cade's brow furrowed.

David lifted an eyebrow. "Why would he be? He was with you boys." The older man's tone was easy enough, but a certain, worried edge was beginning to sharpen it.

"We thought he'd come back a while ago - we couldn't find him and he didn't answer when we called, so we assumed that he got cold and came back to camp."

The Battlemaster drew a harsh intake of breath, drawing the implications from the situation. Gilan, not with the boys and not at camp - missing. David's heart grew cold as he thought of his sweet, curious boy, lost somewhere -or heaven forbid, taken- in the woods, alone and scared.

David gave Cade a curt nod before hurriedly fastening up his cloak. "Edward!" David called sharply, and the other knight raised his head questioningly. "I need to find Gilan. If I'm not back in the hour..."

Edward nodded in understanding. "Then we'll come looking, still leaving an appropriate guard for the camp," he recited, and David's chin tilted in approval, his hand hovering over Gilan's spare cloak.

Gilan; tall for his age, but waif thin, and the night air was beginning to bite.

David snatched the cloak up and tucked it under his arm, before giving a brief wave and departing into the trees.

David's voice was giving out from yelling when he saw them- skid marks. The loose dirt would have crumbled easily enough, and with that steep decline into a sizable recess... The Battlemaster could see it clearly in his mind's eye: his inquisitive ten-year-old, no doubt preoccupied, wandering too close to the edge, only to have the dirt crumple out from underneath him.

Barely allowing himself to hope, David called again. "Gilan!"

"D-dad?"

That small, stuttered word made David's heart swell with joy as he immediately dropped into a crouch by the recess. Gilan sat curled at the bottom - dirty, pale, but seemingly intact. "Gilly," he said as he began to slide down the incline towards where his son was hunched. "What were you thinking? You know better than to wander off!"

Worry made his tone sharp, and Gilan flinched, eyes going shiny with tears. "I j-just wanted t-to e-e-explore," the boy whispered, and David sighed. Gilan truly hadn't meant to be bad, he knew. Rather, his boy had likely been excited and dashed headlong into an idea, in a hurry as usual. Gilan wasn't one to sit still.

...Which is why his son's quiet, trembling frame was causing David such concern as he finally reached him. "Gil?" He said gently as he chafed the boy's cheek, not liking the coolness and deciding that the lecture for wandering could wait. "Does anything hurt, or are you just cold?"

Gilan unconsciously leaned into the warmth of his father's hand. "My a-ankle. It t-t-twisted when I f-fell."

David frowned as he moved to tuck the spare cloak around his trembling child. There was little he could do for it out here, and getting Gilan warm was priority. They would look at the ankle once they were settled in camp.

Coming to this decision, David pulled Gilan into his arms and stood, throat tightening at the boy's pained cry as his ankle was jostled. "Hang in there, love," the man crooned as he prepared to tackle the incline, settling Gilan's head against his shoulder. "That's my good boy."

"Dad?"

David paused, and when Gilan continued, the thick tone made his throat tighten again.

"I don't l-l-like hunting trips."

Right now, neither did David.

This thing isn't edited at all. Sorry, all. DX