Quentin makes it to the bog during his exploration of the area. He's got the backpack he'd found in the core slung over his shoulders and a walking stick in one hand. Occasionally he stops to look at this or that.
The bog has a foul smell to it, though, like a warning sign telling anyone who comes near to stay away. It's noxious enough that he coughs, raising his arm to cover his face. Fuck. Time to go check somewhere else.
As he's turning to leave, the shadowy horseman appears. Quentin freezes. There's not really anywhere to run, the creature blocking his path, and he isn't even sure if he's in danger except it's a shadow and that can't be good, not in this place.
It--he? She?--heads straight for him, moving at such a quick pace and Quentin ducks out of the way, dropping the walking stick in his panic.
"Shit, shit, shit," he whispers, stumbling back, the shadowy horseman now right in front of him. He can't stop looking at the eyes, like they're starting right into him, like they can see everything about him. And he nearly misses that it's not a horseman at all, more like a nightmare centuar, a person combined with a horse. What he doesn't miss is the lack of sound those hooves make as they draw nearer.
Quentin scrambles farther back until he connects with a tree behind him. Fuck. He raises both his hands, bringing them together, preparing to cast the battle magic he'd learned from Kady so long ago. His brain moves at a mile a minute, heart hopping quickly, a part of him knowing this probably won't work but at least it might do something to save him.
iv
The bog has a foul smell to it, though, like a warning sign telling anyone who comes near to stay away. It's noxious enough that he coughs, raising his arm to cover his face. Fuck. Time to go check somewhere else.
As he's turning to leave, the shadowy horseman appears. Quentin freezes. There's not really anywhere to run, the creature blocking his path, and he isn't even sure if he's in danger except it's a shadow and that can't be good, not in this place.
It--he? She?--heads straight for him, moving at such a quick pace and Quentin ducks out of the way, dropping the walking stick in his panic.
"Shit, shit, shit," he whispers, stumbling back, the shadowy horseman now right in front of him. He can't stop looking at the eyes, like they're starting right into him, like they can see everything about him. And he nearly misses that it's not a horseman at all, more like a nightmare centuar, a person combined with a horse. What he doesn't miss is the lack of sound those hooves make as they draw nearer.
Quentin scrambles farther back until he connects with a tree behind him. Fuck. He raises both his hands, bringing them together, preparing to cast the battle magic he'd learned from Kady so long ago. His brain moves at a mile a minute, heart hopping quickly, a part of him knowing this probably won't work but at least it might do something to save him.