There once was a knight, he was not fair or nice, he loved luxury and money and painted his armor the notes of shadow and guile with a weapon so large that every time it touched earth a canyon erupted underneath it. He rode on a horse and tried to find victims to test his skills fighting more and more and letting those who watched talk about his serpent scale patterned armor seemingly glaring at all like the of the animal it represented was watching.

One day the rogue knight clad in armor saw up the road as the hill evened out a group of highwaymen on a witch where they had tried to grab at her valuables. There was not much but something filled the dark warrior taking his axe from his back he sent his horse in a full gallop swinging the axe through the air signaling a sound like a whistle of the damned. Two heads fell from their bodies who would join them soon after as the attackers found they had become prey and not the predator the warrior had been able to take the shots from the remaining two and as they lay on the grass begging for mercy, they could not give the wish the large axe climbed to an apex.

Except it never came down. During the time he had attacked she had gotten herself together just enough to be decent and without a word put a hand on the arm of the warrior. Not out of anger or hate for she knew he had defended her, saved her even. The metal helm closed had looked at her before slowly withdrawing the blade and putting it on his back before getting back on his steed.

He had ridden a horse of shadow and fury, whose eyes shone like bone and wrath and while everyone else would be scared. If it wasn’t the look, it was the size as the horse was a full half size bigger than other horses. Offering a hand silently she had taken it failing to get up only for the horse to lower itself for her before she had found a seat in the saddle behind the knight.

No words were spoken but both had found a comfort in the other, and as one had begun to ride taking the witch back to her house there was something of peace in the snakeskin knight. It had been strange, but it was not anything he had to run from so he enjoyed the misty air in his lungs as they trotted into the fog where a morning’s ride down several paths the witch had made her home.

(felt like a little creative writing, you like?)