Alistair P. Fletcher: Stranger

I continued to tromp down some unknown path, fuming and fussing under my breath. I must've been walking for hours. I didn't have time for this! I had a fully-planned war to orchestrate and time was most certainly of the essence! If I didn't get out of here quick, years of planning would be tossed to the wind.

I had already decided that this wasn't a spell. It was some strange world that for some strange reason I had been transported to. It only made sense then that, having had Maxwell in my clutches before I arrived, he should be here too. I needed to find him. I was sure he knew the way out. That was just his way of things, keeping smug secrets to himself. But I needed some way to force it out of him.

I looked up to make sure  my counfounded surroundings had shifted again when I spotted someone ahead of me. Though his back was to me, he was looking over his shoulder and I could almost feel his penetrating gaze. Obviously he'd been the first to know there were two of us here.

Even from my distance I could tell he had a good, physical build and had the on-gaurd posture of a fighter. He had long, black hair and as I continued to near I noticed his striking eyes.

In short, he was just what I was looking for.

"Greetings," I raised my hand in a friendly wave. His fists only clenched tighter.

"I was wondering if you in any mood to help an old traveler."

The End

78 comments about this exercise Feed