They moved out, the dark horses coasting through the night like the fog, the small dark creatures flitting before them, like a flock of birds. Rob’s heart was beating wildly, the longing to ride with his lost brothers filling every fiber of his being, his mind chanting the hunters song as easily as if he’d always known it.
The dogs ran ahead, baying, chasing the small creatures that moved from the Hunt.
The laughter of his brothers filled the air, his own voice joining them with glee. Bright eyes on fleshless skulls turned to smile at him as they rode. “It is right, it is good, it is joy,” he sang. “It is as it should be this night.”
Hands touched his back, his shoulder, a pat, a slap, a welcome.