The dismal grey of the dread Black Willows had given way days ago to the greenery of more familiar and safer forest and trees. With a contented sigh, Angela breathed in the fresh blossom-scented air of 'home'. While home itself was a castle several more days away, this was the closest she had been in years, and it felt so very good.
She was free. She had been rescued, the proverbial princess saved from the clutches of a wicked sorceress by a band of heroes. There were few people as grateful for the flowers and the lush green moss covered trees as Angela was, in this very moment. For very few people could know the torturous existence she had resigned herself to - almost. And though oh so many people went into the Black Willows, hardly any ever came back. Those that did had never spent the amount of time Angela had, under that thick black canopy of smoke and fog and shadow.
A chill ran down her shoulder, one noted by a man on a horse next to her own. He put out a hand to her, fatherly-like, and she reached for it and squeezed. He was the captain of her parents' Royal Guard. It had been he that put this band of would-be heroes together to rescue her. He'd never given up, not in the six years since she'd been taken. Not once had giving up crossed his mind. He looked on her now with concern but she returned his worried gaze with a grateful smile.
"I'm fine," she said quietly, releasing his hand and clutching at her reins. "Merely anticipating getting home…"
"My lady," the older pot-bellied man said in response, "'tis close enough to spit, have no fear."
"Farther than that, and you know it," Angela said back amiably. "But I can wait. I know I'm safe now."
