"Death brings power and power brings death, but the fall of the Tower shall bring life." - The Prophecies of Light

Clouds had settled in over the party as they moved deeper into the mountains, the nights growing colder and their surrounding less hospitable. Mingyu found himself almost regretting giving the gloves to Wonwoo, finding that despite his Northern birth, he hadn't quite remembered the bite of the mountain air. Several days had passed since Seungcheol and the immortal had left them, and the mercenary was beginning to feel the blond guardsman's absence, both in the longer watches that he and Wonwoo had to split, and in the silence that now wrapped about Hyesung like a cloak.

The High Mage had drawn into his own thoughts even more than before since Seungcheol's departure, keeping to himself at night and riding ahead of the other two during the day. Mingyu could tell that Wonwoo didn't mind the distance, that the thief was more comfortable when Hyesung was not paying attention, but it bothered the mercenary more than he would like to admit.

His horse stumbled on the rocky path they trod, the jolt pulling him from his own contemplations as he checked to make sure that everything was still okay. The steady bay gelding wasn't limping, though, nor had the jolt untied the pack horse's lead line from Mingyu's saddle, and so he breathed a sigh of relief. Yesterday they had turned off of the main trail they had been traveling, setting out onto a smaller side path that was very nearly overgrown with dying grasses. It was rocky, too, and wound up higher into the mountains instead of curving through the pass as the one they had been on before. If he had to guess, he would say that the trail they had been on led too close to the city of the immortals for the High Mage's comfort, and that they were now taking a lesser known route so as to avoid more chance-met strangers.

Wonwoo grumbled something from where he rode in front of Mingyu, the thief's seat much more steady in the saddle now than it had been when they had first set out. Mingyu knew from experience that that was what traveling for almost three weeks on horseback would do to a person; it became a natural extension of one's body, no matter how unused to it they had been at the beginning. 

He did look forward to the end of this journey, though, no matter where that may be. He was quite tired of sitting atop a horse.

Looking past Wonwoo, he focused on the High Mage atop his grey mare. Hyesung rode as if the cold and the wind didn't bother him, his head held high and his eyes ever forward, and Mingyu had to wonder if that was some sort of magic trick. And then he wondered if the Mage could read minds, for at that very moment, Hyesung looked back and met his eyes. Mingyu gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement, wishing that the trail were wide enough to move up beside the man so that he could ask the questions that were circling in his mind, but his wishes were of no use. He settled with with a sound of frustration and shook his head, only able to watch as Hyesung turned back to the front and continued to lead.

The cold deepened as the day drew longer, the clouds seeming to draw even closer to the travelers. Accompanied with the feeling of the still and quiet that the cloud cover brought was a sudden trepidation, a feeling that Mingyu had learned to trust in. Something was in the hills with them, watching them from the gathering fog.

"Wonwoo," he said softly, hoping to catch the thief's attention without calling Hyesung's down on them, as well. The thief turned his head to the side to indicate that he was listening, but he didn't take his eyes off of the trail ahead of him. Still didn't trust his horse, obviously. Or maybe he, too, felt the presence around them.

"Do you have any weapons?" He'd felt easier throughout their journey when Seungcheol was there; despite not always having gotten along with the blond man, Mingyu knew that he could use the sword attached to his hip with ease and experience. Wonwoo, on the other hand, seemed to have nothing but his fists to fight demons with if it came to it.

"A few," Wonwoo replied just as quietly, his words barely carrying past his horse and to Mingyu's ears. He shifted his shoulders before leaning down to dip his fingers into his boot, where he pulled the top of a knife out ever so slightly. He let it linger a moment, as if to make sure that Mingyu saw it, then pushed the hilt back down to hide it once more. "I feel it too," he admitted as he straightened, and Mingyu felt his heart sink.

He had hoped that he was just being paranoid, but if the other man felt it as well... 

Reaching across to his right hip, he pushed the slip cover off of his sword's crosspiece, trying to do so as casually as he could so as not to alert any onlookers. He knew that he wasn't a very sneaky person, and that the motion could easily have been recognized for what it was, but he hoped that the eyes had been elsewhere at that moment. No need to call a fight down on them by being too obvious. Hopefully the watchers would be content to watch, assuming that they were oblivious to their audience.

They rode in silence for several more minutes, and Mingyu