KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
The moment they left the shadow of the house, there came a slam as of a door being thrown open amidst the buildings beyond. There were no shouts, no dogs barking, no running feet, but that only made the hairs on Korbin's neck stand up even more. He picked up his pace until he was side by side with Delphine and quietly urged her to pick up the pace.
Over the sound of their feet crunching in the snow there came a twang, a thin whistle of a projectile speeding through air, and Korbin staggered as something slammed into his shoulder. At first there was only numbness, and he gritted his teeth, made himself keep going; then the pain rose up like a storm, flooding through his senses. There was no time to stop though.
"Now, run!" he hissed at the girl beside him, and reached for her arm to pull her along if she threatened to lag behind. Another arrow came shooting past, but this time it missed, skidding over the snow. Korbin began to zig zag, keeping his eyes on the destination; it was hard to tell if they were being pursued or merely driven off. Could they stop in the shelter, or would they have to keep going? Thinking was hard, every step he took sent a jolt through his back from the arrow that protruded from his shoulder.
Over the sound of their feet crunching in the snow there came a twang, a thin whistle of a projectile speeding through air, and Korbin staggered as something slammed into his shoulder. At first there was only numbness, and he gritted his teeth, made himself keep going; then the pain rose up like a storm, flooding through his senses. There was no time to stop though.
"Now, run!" he hissed at the girl beside him, and reached for her arm to pull her along if she threatened to lag behind. Another arrow came shooting past, but this time it missed, skidding over the snow. Korbin began to zig zag, keeping his eyes on the destination; it was hard to tell if they were being pursued or merely driven off. Could they stop in the shelter, or would they have to keep going? Thinking was hard, every step he took sent a jolt through his back from the arrow that protruded from his shoulder.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
