Cataclysm: Dragonborn

Chapter 11: Missing

"Where in Noxus did they go?" Quinn spat angrily as she galloped along on her horse. She frowned as she peered through the mist that the rain was causing, the entire world now a dull grey around her. She raised a hand to her face, wiping the spray from her brow and shaking it off, her cloak entirely soaked. She frowned, only realizing the futility of the gesture as water poured off her hand, the rain still pounding against her cloak. She blinked the water from her eyes, the sweat from the humidity running off her face and stinging her eyes. She shielded her eyes as she peered into the mist, still unable to see anything in the dense forest and heavy rain. She heard a second set of hooves approaching rapidly and could only hope it was the prince, but a familiar scar along the left side the face that appeared under the hood told her otherwise.

"Any luck?" Forsythe asked as he galloped up from the side and fell into stride with her. Quinn could only shake her head. As worried as she was about the Prince who had gone chasing after the spoilt dragoness, Valor had yet to return to her from his departure earlier at her urging. She had pushed him to continue help search for the prince, and he had been gone much longer than he should have been. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was starting to worry about Valor.

"We can only assume they raced on ahead following the trail of the dragon." Quinn said over the sound of their horses' pounding hooves. They clattered over packed dirt and stone, through shallow puddles and not so shallow puddles, the hooves the only sound discernable from the dull roar of the rain.

"So we just keep following the trail?" Forsythe shouted as the raced around a boulder that jutted up from the ground. It was sharp and violent, the ground at the base disturbed when the boulder had been uprooted forcibly. Claw marks marred the stone, and Quinn could only wonder if they belonged to their target or the dragoness.

"I suppose that's all we can do now." Quinn called over her shoulder.

The tracker slowed her horse as they rounded a bend in the trail, Isaacs stepping into the path ahead of them and waving his arm up and down. Quinn reined her horse in, the beast slowing unwillingly, as if it believed the running meant it would get out of the rain faster. Forsythe slowed to a trot as well as they closed with Isaacs, their horses stamping at the ground angrily in the rain as they came to a stop. It was fall in sheets now, and was little they could see or do in the angry torrents.

"Lieutenant." Forsythe said, a grim look on his face as he popped a quick salute. He only dropped it when the older officer matched it haggardly. The rain was wearing hard on him, and he was moving slower than his normal spritely self. "Any sign of the prince or the dragoness?" Forsythe asked he kept his horse from moving, the beast shifting to the side and shaking the water from its mane. Isaacs pulled back his hood just far enough to let the dim, dreary light glint off his green eyes. He looked up at Quinn and then Forsythe and frowned, the corner of his mouth dropping. He sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping.

"No such luck." Isaacs growled, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked down the trail and then, shaking his head dismissively, he gestured for Quinn and Forsythe to follow. "Has Valor been able to find anything?" His boots splashed as he walked, leading his horse by the reins towards a massive rocky outcropping. Three spires erupted from the ground in different directions, the largest of which stretched up above the spindly tops of the pine trees like a massive, flat blade. It formed a shelf over some rocks, making an ideal campsite. The shelf was flat and stuck out at an odd angle, but it provided shelter from the rain. Isaacs led his horse up under the shelf and tied it off to a fallen log near the corner of the sheltered area.

Quinn and Forsythe dismounted their own horses and did the same, tying the leads to the fallen tree so the horses were well out of the rain. The horses neighed loudly as they shook their manes from side to side, sending water flying in every direction. One of the other horses snorted and neighed, snapping its teeth at the other horse. The third stamped its foot and ignored the other two. Forsythe grumbled under his breath at the animals, having caught most of the water with his body. The towheaded corporal sighed, wiping the water from his face as the horse shot him a cheeky glance. He frowned at the horse who he could swear was smiling at him. Forsythe turned, shaking his head.