It was early morning up in the snowy hills surrounding Acquila. Navarre rose weary from another restless night. The bitter taste of defeat kept him from thinking clearly about their situation. He had failed to convince the Bishop of letting Isabeau chose him as a suitor, and he had failed to protect her from the consequences. Now they were on the run with nowhere to go. Navarre was not afraid of the soldiers of Acquila, but the darkness, that fell across them without a glimmer of hope. Increasingly, both had dreams of vicious creatures, that hunted and devoured them until they became one with the ravaging hungers of their nightmares. When they jolted awake, both were concealing their fears and worries from each other. Little did they know that it was the dawn of their separation.