The sound of their boots thumping behind him, spurned him forward. The random branches pulling at his hood and scratching his exposed skin. Chest heaving and lungs aching for the air that he was inhaling as quickly as he was releasing it.
Stumbling over an exposed root he curled into a ball as he fell down a hill. Rolling until he hit the bottom, where he rammed his elbow on a boulder, letting a sharp cry escape his lips he heard orders being yelled out, surrounding him. He had to think of something, and fast before he got caught.
A distinct tinging of a blade being unsheathed caught his attention, it sounded from behind him.
"Hans...of the Southern Isles...there is no where else to run...it's time to face what you have done."
Cupping his injured arm, Hans stood to his feet and looked slowly up at the guard. Green eyes glaring daggers at him. Soldiers encroaching behind him, feeling his freedom slowly coming to a close he needed another way out.
"All right men, grab this traitor and lets take him back to the castle."
Hands roughly yanked him up, causing a sharp jab of pain to rocket through his arm and up his shoulder. "Stop! Stop it! I can walk on my own! Stop!"
"Gag him as well, we don't need to listen to this."
A gag was roughly tied over his lips and he stared shouting behind it as the yanked both arms behind his back. Another sharp cry fell from his lips as pain shocked his systems again. He had to think of another way out of this, he just had to.