xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
Another long pause, before she answers, “It’s Edward. And he’s … there’s something wrong.” Summer closes her eyes, then kicks her horse into a gallop and tears down the road, braid and cloak streaming behind her.
Mordred follows after her, catching up to her in a matter of moments. “Edward? Your brother?”
“Yes!” she shouts back, bent over the saddlehorn. One curve, another, a thin branch she barely ducks — and there he is, tall and straight in the saddle, black hair glinting in the sunlight. He’s pulled up, obviously hearing her pounding approach, and she just barely manages to keep the two horses from crashing into one another.
“Summer?!”
“Edward!” He seizes her in a crushing hug, all but lifting her off the back of her horse.