Yet to be named, pt13

He stuck his head out of the mount’s hair. They crossed the gatehouse and rushed away from the city. They didn’t dare stop. Colourful lights flicked all around the area, even in the woods, even minutes after escaping the city. They didn’t say a word, only listened to the rhythmic beating
of hooves first on the cobbles, then on the dirt trail through the forest.

After what seemed like hours, the sparks of light ceased to show up, and only hoof beats were heard. They still refused to stop and kept riding.

Finally, the darkness faded away, pushed back by the light of dawn. At first, the path ahead became clearly visible, then the foliage at the sides gave up its dark veil, and after some time, shafts of sunlight broke through the leaves.

It was tranquil. Nothing moved in the woods, save for the delicate swaying of leaves stirred by a light breeze. Birds began to wake up, and a few merry chirps sounded through the forest.

And, most importantly, there was no sight of the undead. They slowed down the horse.
It deserved rest after saving them in the city, but setting-up camp so close to danger was just not
a good idea. Besides, the peace around them didn’t mean they were alone.