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...ted madly about in the most unnerving of ways. He opened pale lips to speak. "You..." his voice was hoarse, accompanied by a hacking spell of coughing.

Just about the, it became apparent that the horse was not scared because it knew it shouldn't have been here. It was scared for the man on its back. He began to slump to one side, instinctively, I reached up to push him back in the saddle, "Sir...?" I withdrew my hand to find it coated in a dark, sticky substance. Blood. He was bleeding. His shoulder was bleeding. He was sick...I could see it now, the gauntness in his face betrayed that fact, the dark circles under his eyes, the hollows in his cheekbones.

But he was just a stranger, he would be...well, maybe he'd die soon. Maybe I wouldn't  have to do anything for him. This stranger...who seemed to be looking for me. Then again..he couldn't know who I was if he couldn't see me. At any rate, I couldn't very well watch this man's life pass right before me...could I?

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