Quickly shook his head, grip releasing as he turns on his heel and begins walking in the direction they had been going. He moved swiftly this time, now motivation fueling each heavy step. Reaching back, he’d grip the edge of his cloak, bringing it to his front to slice a small piece off. The breeze had always moved in one direction, always coming from the East without any shift in its path.<br/><br/>He’d keep the small piece of fabric in his hand, waiting for the breeze to once more find them. The red of his cloak was worn out, spots stained with dirt with speckles of what seemed to be dry blood. What was once a sign of nobility, given only to the most honorable now only served as mere memories of a time long dead.<br/><br/>That was when it returned, the biting wind that roared past them, whistling sharply through the dense trees. Raising his hand up, gloved fingers parted, releasing the cloth and allowing it to spiral and fly through the air, riding the wind until it too vanished through the fog.  With the wind once more dying down, he’d slow his pace, giving Isabella time to catch up before he finally spoke up.<br/><br/>“There’s more than hollows out in these woods, my lady. The spirits themselves despise us for what we hold within, what they lack. Maidens from these lands that were robbed of their lives… but why here? We are not in the land she had claimed so many years ago, and yet…” He’d begin mumbling incoherently now, his eyes till searching the tops of trees. “It knows we realize…  we should have heard it again, Isabella… the demon.”