The wind blew softly through the trees, the rustle of their branches was the only sound in the open moor as the sun slowly sank towards the horizon. At the base of one such tree a small hand suddenly burst from the leaves that had piled up there, it jerked about with a panicked flail before finding a sturdy root to grab hold of and with a heavy pull the boy's full form emerged with a gasp for fresh air. Dakin panted as he dragged his legs out from the tiny 'pocket' of earth and root that he had awoken in before sprawling onto the earth, his mind reeling as it tried to comprehend exactly where he was and how he got there. He remembered working in the gardens and how he'd been heading back to town when the bell started ringing. On the road nearby he'd met... Old Autry? A haze clouded his memories and he couldn't be sure it had been the old hag that he'd run into, if in fact he'd run into anyone at all, and though he spent a long moment trying to piece it together it remained a jumble. 

Rolling onto his belly, Dakin managed to push himself to his feet with limbs that felt weary and cramped and it was only after he'd done a few sufficient stretches that his inner senses kicked in and he noticed the very distressing feeling that permeated the wilderness around him. [i]Silence.[/i] Not a bird sang in the trees and no bugs buzzed over the pools of still water; it was as if the entire world was holding its breath and he could feel the... [i]unnaturalness[/i] that had permeated into the energies of nature. Something had happened and the mystery of it was enough to send a long, cold shiver down the boy's spine. "Dorn..." He muttered to himself, brushing the tangled mess of black hair from his eyes as he forced his legs to carry him towards the path. "I've got to find Dorn..." His foot struck against something and he stumbled, barely managing to regain his balance before going face-first into the dirt. It was his walking staff and with a sigh of relief at finding [i]something[/i] familiar to hold onto, he quickly retrieved it and used it more-or-less for its intended purpose.

It didn't take too long for Dakin to reach the wall and find them just as still and silent as the moor. Though he called out in a weak, hoarse voice no familiar face looked over to greet him and his cries went unanswered. Making his way over to the gate he found the thick wooden doors strangely ajar but before he could look inside a glint in a nearby pile of brush and weed caught his attention. As he looked with an intent gaze, stepping closer, the form of a child-sized boot could be seen beside what was catching the light, the metal trigger of a wooden crossbow. With a shout, he sprinted over as best as he was able and found an unconscious half-elf nearly buried in the soft earth. It was Thovren, another boy from the village and one that Dakin had often seen but rarely spoken too simply because they didn't share much free time. He was always training with the full time militia-men which may explain why he'd been found just outside the town's wall. [i]'Had he fallen from the battlement?'[/i]

"Hey! Hey, are you alright!?" He shook Thovren gently, hoping-beyond-hope that the only other person he'd found out here wasn't a corpse.