Phantom Hollow brocktree

Dwin would have very much preferred, if she had not needed to make an unlikely allience with this stranger. She still did not trust him and hated the fact that he had found Dee first and that both of the Blackthorns were at his mercy. Yet she still followed him diligently, touching her sister's face time and time again, hoping to see her open her eyes or respond in any other way. She was still alive - but the dreadful thought of that time being a brief one, entered her mind and she pushed it back angrily. 

They had finally arrived at a river and the man spoke for the first time. Dwin nodded and helped him to slide Dee's limp body off his shoulders and lied her to rest on the ground as gently as it was possible. She checked her over,  heart wrenching at the sight of wounds. Up until now the evil had only been a thing in the stories, an almost imaginary being in the same league as dragons, ghosts and witchcraft. Facing it now in such a brutal form made her belief in world order shatter. Bad things should not be happening to good people and yet they did. They had and Dee in her current state was a proof to that. 

"Could you go to our home and ask for help?" she looked up at the stranger. "You see that peak, over there? The one that looks as if the top has been cut off?" she beckoned to the caldera in the distance. It was mist-clad, but stood out against the flatlands.  "It is Brecheliant. My dad is a healer and there are others that will know, how to help Dee as well," that was the only option she saw, because it did not seem likely that even this helpful citizen knew much or anything about healing or treating wounded people. "Please?" she asked.