Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Two Hundred and Sixty-Five

Her breath felt like knives in her chest and she knew it was only the morning mist that kept her safe from pursuit. 

She thought herself spent when a man materialised. He was tall and dressed simply, with only a quarterstaff for protection.

At first she didn’t understand that he had come for her, but when his hand closed about her wrist she had no thought of resistance. Instead she followed as trustingly as a child.

They moved through the woods as silently as the silver fingers of the fog.

When they reached his cave she left her garment outside.

©jj 2019

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