Sinclair couldn’t help but be blown away from the amount of wildlife and nature around him. Trees sprouted higher than any he’d seen before with moss covering any exposes rock and grass concealing every inch of the ground below him. The trail itself was mostly overgrown aside from two indents of a cart’s wheels, which served as his only navigator.

While the colt was not taking a likely to it’s new handler, something was keeping the young stead from steering off the trodden path. Sinclair felt too that something hostile waited beyond the edges of the treeline.

SINCLAIR

[Turning his head to look at the colt] I guess we ought to pick a name for you lad, mind you I’ve never had me own horse.

For some reason no names were coming to Sinclair’s mind, until he started to think about his work back in London.

SINCLAIR

Ah I got it, what about Oliver? Or Olly, the name of the boy who dropped off our papers?

The horse did not respond to any of the words the Irishman spoke to it, not that it could.

SINCLAIR

Nay, not much of a reaction out of you with that one…let me think here for a moment.

While Sinclair pondered the question of a name for the horse, the sun was beginning to lower towards the horizon, illuminating the forest around him with an orange hue. Figures shifted in the distance, hiding from the light.

SINCLAIR

Ah! I got it, what about Jack? It was the name of –

Before the rider could finish the sentence, the colt bucked upwards at the sight of long, sharp object landing in the mud in front of it.

SINCLAIR

Jesus christ, get us out of here!

Sinclair grabs tight the reigns of his mount and drives his heel in hard to its side. The colt speeds ahead in a blur and Sinclair can barely see what’s happening around him; in one moment he sees a figure standing there, the next it disappears.

SINCLAIR

They stopped attacking?

As Sinclair just finishes asking his question, he hears a branch snapping and in the next moment a massive log come swooping down from the tree above him. In a moment of shock, the rider pulls back at the reigns and causes the horse to rear up and fall on its side. The log narrowly misses both by only mere inches, the wind from it blowing on their hair.

Landing a way ahead from the horse, Sinclair gets up to his feet and looks around him at the dark forest. Glowing, lurking eyes stare back at him from the darkness of the forest – the heads of unknown figures turning as they seem to be getting closer.

SINCLAIR

Aye no way my journey ends here, we are just getting started.

Sinclair reaches into his satchel and draws the service revolver from it’s cloth sheathe, cocking back the hammer and aiming it towards the wilderness. By this point, the colt was back on it’s feet and circling around where it fell.

SINCLAIR

[Approaching the horse with his pistol drawn] It’s just you and me boy, lets get the hell out of here.

When the first shot of the revolver fired, all of the eyes disappeared into the surrounding forest like a room full of candles all being blown out at once.

SINCLAIR

What? Where did they all go now.

The whistle of an object flying caught the rider’s attention just moments before he felt it’s impact in his left shoulder. The reaction made the colt jolt off back down the trail.