Arthur jumps off his horse, your security being his top priority but images of him already being too late flashes in his mind He imagines all the horrible things that the black legs could’ve done to you or even worse, you could be dead already

He pants as he enters the cave, his eyes darting between dead bodies of men, women and small children hugging their wooden toys tightly

“Hello” Arthur and his men freeze before turning around. Mischief John had your hair in a tight grip