It was a strange time to ride, but the last light in the village had dimmed a few hours ago, and all the curtains had been drawn. Now he was sure that he wouldn’t be seen and had chosen to disappear under the inky night sky. The figure was wearing a billowing black cloak, and a silver dagger was just visible tucked into his belt. His hands were covered by thick leather gloves.

The disgruntled neighing of a jet-black stallion trailed behind him. The horse didn't belong to him, and from its sheer size he could only guess that it belonged to one of the nobles. He didn't mind stealing from them. It was hardly like they needed the dozen horses in their stables. The man straddled onto the horse’s back. He didn't have enough time to gear up, so he was riding bareback.

He forced the horse into a slow trot, until he approached the point where the path narrowed and was covered with trees. He grasped some strands of the horse’s mane as he prepared to speed up.

Suddenly, a large raven swooped down to greet him, cawing loudly as it recognised him and settled on his shoulder. He kicked the horse into a gallop, and the deafening crunch of its horseshoes on the gravel broke the silence as he sped out of the town, invisible in the eerie darkness whilst everyone slept.