Caught in a Storm

Walk | Talk | Think

He slipped. She felt his weight shift, felt the pressure holding her in place slacken, and clawed even more frantically with her forepaws on the ground. Yes! She was moving, she was going to get away. Relief shot through her like a white hot flash, stronger than she expected. She would not be hurt, she would not be tormented. Whatever the slim white wolf's intent, she would have no part in it. Ashtoreth clawed further, dragging herself upward and out of the mud - which she could feel clinging to her back and sides and coating her almost wholly with wet earth. She had to get away, had to find safety, had to at the very least get closer to the Valhallan border. She needed to run, and hope that whichever direction she chose would lead her away from danger and not straight into it.

At last she got her feet - freedom nearly within her grasp - and she made to move forward, to run half slipping in the mud to some yet unknown sanctuary, anywhere but here. But as she made that first step, nearly stumbling and losing her balance a little in the mess she and Domovei had made of the ground with their original tumble, a sudden pain stabbed the back of her ankle nearest the wolf and an unexpected weight stopped any progress she would have made.

She cried out, a sharp yelp of pain, as the other latched securely onto her leg. The momentum of her almost run combined with the pull of the crazed wolf's jaws as they prevented her movement were enough to send her balance off kilter, and struggling to remain upright she slipped and slid back toward the earth. The pain of his hold was much stronger than she would have imagined, though she knew if she didn't get herself moving again, didn't bite past the flaring sting, that it would likely be the mildest thing she got away with. So she tried to pull away from him, cringing with an audible whine, as she attempted to draw herself upright again, desperate to at least get to her feet and be one step closer to running away.