She found him slumped, propped up against the gate she needed to use to get into the back entrance of the Olive Lounge. Her long red hair, tied back by a number of ribbons, wound itself over her shoulder and hung forward as she leaned over the pale man.
‘Why are you here… what are you doing…’, her voice quivered with held back anger and frustration, ‘and how did you get here… did you not notice that the sun has only just set?’
He murmured slightly and raised his head, his pale blue eyes appearing to glow as they reflected the street lights from the main road at the end of the back alley. ‘I had to get to you,’ he whispered huskily, ‘don’t go in there… it’s a…’ his head dropped forward for a second before raising again, ‘a trap… the chaplain and his men are on their way… they may already be here…’
‘Thank you, but I am more than capable of looking after myself,’ she snapped, before softening her tone, ‘get yourself back – the chaplain and his men won’t do anything inside whilst it’s full of customers’; she smirked before continuing, ‘then return with the others… we can easily turn this ambush around.’



Posted for The Unicorn Challenge (a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a picture and we provide up to 250 words) and Six Sentence Stories, where Denise’s prompt word for this week is Wound.

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