As she straightened her aching back, Isabella was relieved to be within reach of the forest timberlands where horse and riders could conceal themselves safely. They could have easily been detected for the first full day’s ride through the open meadows. Fearing at any moment that palace sentries would ride them down, Isabella pushed the horse as she continually glanced behind them. Now the safety of the woodlands lay ahead of them. Ignoring the dull pain in her back and legs, Isabella focused on locating an area that provided camouflage for her and Ronan for the night. As she dismounted, Isabella was careful to not disturb Ronan’s precarious balance atop the horse.

Half-way during the ride, the dark-haired warlock had sloped forward onto the animal. Isabella held tightly onto his vest with one hand as her other hand gripped the reins. The entire trip terror plagued her that they would be found, or Ronan would slide off the horse during the ride. Her mind during their escape raced faster than their horse with scenarios of what could go wrong. Even with her feet planted firmly on the mossy forest bed, her fears of being captured still bothered her. As well as her concerns over Ronan’s injuries. With a gentle hand she led the steed through the thicket of trees.

Pushing past hanging branches, she did not feel the excitement she once had about leaving the castle. Isabella assumed when she escaped that Ronan would be in charge and taking care of her. But instead she was frightened at the responsibility she faced. She had no idea where she was going or what she should do to care for herself and Ronan. Isabella wrestled with doubt as she tried to find a small clearing within the woods for them to set up camp for the evening. She would need to check Ronan’s wounds, start a fire for warmth and hopefully find some food and water for them.

The daylight faded under the canopy of trees as she kept pressing further into the forest. The gentle sounds of chirping birds and the sound of wind rustling the leaves calmed Isabella. The natural world surrounding her began to soothe her frayed nerves. Memories of her younger years exploring the woods rushed back to her. Recalling those days boosted her confidence that she did know how to start a fire, she did know which berries were edible, and she did know how to survive in this setting. Carefully listening, Isabella was able to hear the distinct sounds of a babbling brook off in the distance.

The prospect of having drinking water inspired her to quicken her pace. She tried to steer the horse onto flatter land, afraid of the animal hurting a hoof over rocks and fallen tree limbs. Isabella kept moving toward the sound hopeful for a decent pool of water. She winded her way past the green mossy tree trunks of Conifer and Birch trees deep in her search. When she found the brook, it was a small stream running down a rocky hill pooling into a small basin at the bottom. It was not enough to bathe in, but enough for drinking water and cleaning the warlock’s wounds which satisfied Isabella.

Her brown steed nudged ahead of Isabella bowing its head to drink from the clear pool. Patting the horse’s side, she spoke to break the silence. “Good, get a drink.” Gazing up at the sleeping warlock reminded her of the urgency to care for his injuries. She knew camping near a source of water ran the potential for bumping into wild animals; therefore, Isabella decided to move further away. Gently pulling on the reins, the large horse followed her as she continued her search for the perfect spot to settle. Travelling further into the woods, she found a good site a couple yards uphill from the brook. Under the shade of a huge Oak tree lay a small patch of green grass perfect for horse and riders.

Isabella exclaimed out loud. “This will do just fine.” Coming close to the side of the horse, she rubbed Ronan’s leg to rouse him out of his slumber. Speaking softly, she called out to him. “Ronan. Time to wake up.” The dark-haired warlock stirred slightly opening his eyes. “Let’s get you off the horse to rest.” Isabella watched as he slowly moved on the back of the horse. As he tried to sit up, she saw him clench his teeth together in pain. He muttered to her. “Princess, I am going to need your help.” She nodded as she clenched one hand onto his vest and the other hand against his leg. Ronan holding tight onto the horse’s neck began lifting his opposite leg over. In one clumsy motion, the dark-haired warlock slid himself down off the horse as Isabella tried to support him.

He yelped in pain as both of his feet shakingly touched the ground with Isabella holding tight to him. Ronan steadied himself against the steed. “Thank you, Princess.” She scooted under his arm for support as he shakily took a few steps on his own. “How about over here?” She pointed ahead to a grassy spot close to the large tree trunk. Ronan nodded as they carefully moved forward in the clearing until he stated. “Here is fine.” The dark-haired warlock breathed in sharply as he began bending down lowering himself to the ground. She kept glancing at his expressions to judge his level of pain until he gently thudded down into the grass. Isabella had maneuvered herself poorly as she fell onto the warlock pushing him down on his back.

“I am sorry. Are you alright?” She asked him frantically afraid her clumsiness caused him more discomfort. With his arms wrapped around Isabella, the warlock calmly stated as she tried to pull herself off him. “Stay here for a minute. It is good to have you in my arms.” She lay in his arms fearing about how much pain she was causing him. But he did not groan or complain as he held her tight as the two of them lay in the grass. “Princess, you should have left me behind. I am afraid I will be slowing you down.” Breathing in his scent, she relaxed answering him. “I was never going to leave you.” She sat up to look him in the eye. “We are in this together.”

The dark-haired warlock smiled closing his eyes. “I understand Princess.” His face contorted in pain as he stated. “Time for you to move.” Rapidly, she rolled off him onto the grass as she heard him sigh in relief. Worry settled in. “I have to get those wounds clean or they will become infected.” Isabella stood up and retrieved her brown leather bag that she latched onto the side of the saddle. Opening the case, she pulled out her spare dress with the intentions of ripping it into sections to create bandages. Glancing over at Ronan, he lay wordlessly in the grass with eyes closed. Isabella tried to work swiftly as she feared for his health.

Standing beside the horse with her worn gown in hand, she attempted to rip the fabric, but it would not tear. Turning it over in her hands, Isabella tried to find any loose strings or minor rips she could use as a starting point. With no success, she walked towards Ronan and sat beside him as her frustration mounted. With closed eyes, he asked her. “Princess, what are you doing?” She huffed answering him. “I am trying to make rags, but it is not working.” Isabella rolled the fabric in her hands again and again. The dark-haired warlock reached down into his boot and pulled out a small knife and held it out to Isabella with the handle facing her. “Do me a favour, and do not cut off a finger.”

Clasping onto the handle, she gingerly took the blade and began crudely sawing through the fabric. Shadows from the direct sunlight moved through the clearing as Isabella began to cut crude slices of rags from the gown. At one point she had nicked herself on the finger with the blade and glanced downwards at the warlock in case he noticed. But Ronan continued resting in the grass quietly with his eyes shut as she worked. Once she had created enough rags, Isabella set the blade down in the grass, stood up and travelled back to the babbling brook. One by one, she began soaking clothes in the cold flowing water. Satisfied she had all the materials prepared; Isabella prepared herself for cleaning the wounds.

She would have to admit she was partially squeamish around the sight of blood and torn flesh. Isabella had only endured a few bumps and bruises when she was younger, but she had seen the injuries her older brothers would endure. When her second oldest brother Colin had fallen out of a tree, she had passed out when she could see part of a bone poking through his flesh. Ever since then, Isabella avoided any gruesome wounds at all cost. But she knew gashes would be left on Ronan since his whipping that should be cleaned. If not cleaned, his gashes could become infected which could cost the warlock his life. No, Isabella needed to get over her fears and take care of her dark-haired warlock.

Slowing her breath, she approached the warlock who appeared deep in slumber. Crouching down, she placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke. “Ronan, we need to take care of your cuts.” The dark-haired man snorted as he came out of his light sleep. “I will need to take your shirt off and get you to turn onto your stomach.” He rubbed his eyes with his hand. “Alright, give me a minute.” Isabella patiently waited as Ronan woke himself up. He held up his arm. “Help me sit up.” She assisted him as he groaned and let out a curse word. With him sitting up, Isabella began to undo his vest and shirt.

Isabella noticed his muscular chest covered in curly brown hairs. She had seen her brothers without shirts on before, but Ronan had to be the hairiest she had seen. Ronan laid on his stomach which gave her a good view of the deep gashes on his back. There were eight or nine thick marks covered in dried blood. Gritting her teeth, she gently began cleaning his back.