Anton listened to her story with great intent, though often he moved his hand over mouth, pretending to rub stubble that was forming though in truth he wanted to hide his yawns. Exhaustion was just two steps away from him, ready to drag him into the abyss. What few moments of lucidity he had, Anton spent wondering about all that he had heard. It was not a secret that Prince started as a promising lad, eager and just but corrupted slowly by the malice that unlimited power brings. The good of people was replaced by the need to indulge his own desires... with his farther, the king, falling deeper and deeper into illness so did his power rose as nobility turned to only heir capable of running the kingdom. A poor choice he turned out to be. Tactic and benevolence were replaced by brutality, his word was absolute and disobedience could never expect a fair trial. Why would it? He killed men for far less.<br/><br/>And Anton knew this. What tickled his curiosity was the fact that he chose Kateri. It was beyond argue that she was beautiful but there had to be more, there had to be much much more... A peasant will be more than happy with a common whore, groaning and squealing, making the whole act look like two pigs mating. If whore was not available, he'd be happy with a hole in a tree. Nobility, on the other hand, had much greater expectations. It wasn't enough to shake bosoms and lift a skirt. No, they demanded certain level of finesse, sophistication, their needs exceeded common carnal needs and to fulfill such desires, to indulge their various fetishes one needed more than just exquisite look. To please a prince... now that was something that not just about any common woman can do. He wondered... just what is she capable of when she managed to keep Prince's attention. Perhaps it was just magic, a spell to wake dormant lust... or perhaps her hands knew how to caress man's skin and mind. Within all this curiosity, he felt a small spark of guilt... witch or not, her final destination awaits her within the dungeons of the castle... and he is leading her there.<br/><br/>His eyelids felt heavy as lead. Every minute spent awake was another minute spent searching for strength to keep himself awake and also realizing that he may not succeed. His nightmares beckoned.<br/><br/>"Tempting." he said at her mention on tying her against a tree "I could, but we both know you need just to utter few words and your binds will be undone. Besides, you tied against the tree might give me ideas, you can't know for sure if I am 'as honest as they come'." He snorted. Idea of her bound against the tree sparked few ideas, each more descriptive than the other... If only he didn't know about this bounty. Part of him started wishing that she would do all she could to escape... thick forest like this, there are more than enough ways to escape and with six hours of head start... her chances of finding freedom will improve considerably. As for him... there are always other bounties, always another monster in man's clothes to drag before the law and the cold embrace of executioner. Their deaths seem far more merciful than what Prince will do. Anton knew well how to keep a wrangler or common murderer in check, but a witch? Nothing he carried was made to deal with her magic and thus... he had to resort to his most lethal weapon. Bluff.<br/><br/>Slowly he stood up and walked around the fire. Hunter sat down beside her and with his left hand took her right one. Without a second wasted, he wrapped long piece of cloth around both of their wrists and stuffed end into palm of his bound hand. When he was done he moved himself lower, laying down upon the dry grass and with head leaned against the log... his hand held Kateri's in firm embrace "I sleep light. Try not to wiggle around much." It wasn't a lie that he slept light. Broken branch twenty meters away would wake him up immediately but with exhaustion taking over... he doubted he'd wake up if  ground split open and swallowed him. His breathing slowed down, his eyes slowly closed and darkness embraced him into his fold...<br/><br/>He saw it... saw them... a man in chain shirt, sword and shield, smeared in blood and mud, trying to break through the endless lines. None paid attention to him, all were too busy trying to kill whoever was in front of them, looking more like demons of hatred and rage, feasting on chaos. Skies were gray, thundering but not a single drop of rain fell. And he kept on walking... Clashing of swords echoed far and near, stench of blood burned his eyes and nose. Grass turned red, river of blood ensured it... and he stood amidst it, gripping broken sword in right hand and shield in left, looking around as soldiers slaughtered each other and none understood why they did it... all they knew is that the other one must die, if not by the sword then with hands and when hands were broken then teeth were used. Fear. He felt fear... the sense of impending disaster that loomed over him, predicting that soon he will feel the cold steel lodged into his stomach... but he won't die. He never dies. The nightmare had only just began...