They knew it was awkward for only one Gore Crow to travel alone. Normally there would be a flock, for the Gore Crows killed in numbers. This would only mean one thing… a tracker.
"Should we ride harder?"
Ennael whispered to prevent and listening ears.
"Not yet. Hopefully it wont notice. We should be cautious. If it follows us even in daylight then we should ride hard and get to running water. Hopefully it wont."
Ligir's hope was crushed as the Gore Crow risked the harsh sun to follow and track the pair as they rode as fast as they could. There was a small lake not far and they had a chance of making it by nightfall if they kept their current pace. The horses failed an hour to sunset. First Ennael's and then Ligir's. They could feel hands now, about five or so in hot pursuit of them. This forced them to slit the horses' necks to prevent the hands from drinking their blood and becoming stronger. They ran as fast as their tired legs would carry them across the field. There was still a chance that they could make it. The sun was setting fast and the dead chose to make their appearance. They stumbled out from the trees, flesh rotting, bones creaking as they made their way towards the fleeing pair.
"We're going to have to fight, we wont make it."
"Yes we will Ennael, just keep running!"
They ran for what seemed like hours but still the dead caught up. Ennael stumbled and fell over. The dead were closer than ever. There was no point in running. They had to fight. Ennael drew her sword, synchronizing with Ligir. There was more dead than they thought. What started out as five ended up being nine. Charter blade met bone, Charter Magic met flesh. Ennael ha just slaughtered her third hand when Ligir screamed out to her. She whipped her head to his direction and saw that he was running towards her, sword held high. She turned around just in time to feel excruciating pain, and see a dead hand at her side, teeth sinking into her own flesh. Ennael screamed and stabbed her sword. The hand fell to the ground, sinking back into Death as it fell. Ennael turned to look at Ligir who turned around just in time to prevent a dead hand attempting to strangle him. Ennael screamed again, this time mixed with pain and anger. The berserker blood she had inherited from her grandfather began to rise. As fury rose into her eyes, Ennael flew at an attacking hand, stabbed it until it fled into Death then grabbed Ligir and ran like she had never run before. Ligir feared that his arm would pop out of his socket but he kept up as much as he could. He had never seen his cousin this way but had heard stories of their grandfather's temper. They ran faster than the horses could have carried them. A small farm house appeared in sight. Ennael wouldn't stop running and Ligir thought she would run right through the wall. As soon as they reached the steps Ennael collapsed, heart pounding, gasping for air. She past out of consciousness. Ligir had just enough energy to tap on the door, then her followed his cousin to pass out of consciousness.
