Youta woke up to the feeling of something brushing against his face. For a brief moment, he thought he was back in the dungeon, and was afraid to open his eyes. The ground beneath him felt uneven though, and it took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t laying down, but sitting up, with his back against something soft and breathing, and that there was something even more soft and warm draped over him.
Finally, he opened his eyes to see a tuff of purple and blue hair in his face. It wasn’t until he reached up to push the hair away though, that he noticed his hands were unbound. He looked down at the shackles still around his wrists. They hadn’t been removed... someone, or something, had cut the chain between them. He looked over, and saw that he was leaning against a Rapidash who was in deep REM sleep.
He turned away, and looked around. He was in some sort of cave or something... with ores that sparkled and jutted out of the walls. Youta let his head fall into his hands. He was alive...
Alive, but a fugitive... and falsely charged with the murder of his own Father...
He clutched his hair in his fists, and let out a pained, frustrated scream. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t go home... not until Freya’s message reached his Mother and she fixed things... she had too! Mom would never fall for Bryce’s lies. She’d believe him... and clear everything up. But until then? What was he going to do...
Memories of that day on the cliff forced themselves to the front of his mind. The sight of the sword perturbing from Dad’s stomach as he reached down to pull him up... the arrows...
Anxiety suddenly played tricks in his mind. What if his Mother didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him for his Father’s death as well? After all... it was kind of his fault. If Dad had never taken him in, and had just killed him with his biological family... then Dad would still be...
The Rapidash whinnied, knocking him out of that dangerous spiral of thought. His scream must have woken her up... he fell over onto his side, and felt the cold ground against his face.