Lay Until the Break of Day

Autumn was drawing to an end, winter was beginning to reach it's fingers into the land. In some places, it would be nothing but torrential rains all season long, and in other places, frost would kiss the terra. But for now, all was littered with colours and the animals were all readying themselves for the long haul. Here, the oaks were mercilessly dropping their bounty onto the waiting heads of any unfortunate soul who walked beneath the towering canopies. She herself had been dealt several blows by the acorns as they whizzed from on high to smack her square on the snout, or the rump on several occasions. She was going to have bruises and welts everywhere by the end of this stroll through the woods. Not that it bothered her too much. It came with walking through the oaks in fall. It was a beautiful day, and so it mattered not what was going on under the red, yellow, and brown canopies over her head. She'd let one of those trees fall on her, and only complain a little, as it were. Her ebony tipped banner swung jovially at her rump, each swish of her lithe hips giving it the momentum it needed to continue on it's pendulum course. The twin crimson feathers behind her audit danced in the breeze, though their length meant they wouldn't be as prone to moving as smaller ones might. Macaw tail feathers were very nice, and good to use for this purpose.

It wasn't until she got past the point of no return that the wandering woman heard it. The voice. Foreign tongues and syllables filled her ears, and within milliseconds they were pressed so tightly against her skull in terror she probably wouldn't have heard anything else past that point. The scents flooded her nostrils in seconds, the loss of one sense only making the others stronger. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Oh no. And of course, an acorn took this opportunity to land solidly on her head loud enough to have the sound ring out through the trees. A startled sound that was half indignant squeak and half startled grunt escaped her jaws, and her whiskey coloured eyes flew open wide with horror. She'd just given herself away completely, if she hadn't before. Not even thinking about her possible head injury, she high tailed it. In the wrong direction. The poor little dove was making a beeline right for the pair she was attempting to avoid altogether. It wasn't until she got a clear view of them that she started to see the mistake. Scrabbling her claws in the dirt, she fought for traction as she skidded to a slow halt just on the edge of the clearing.
Frozen for the barest moment, she could only stare at the pair with wide eyes. At any other point, or situation, she might have noticed that the femme was pretty. The male seemed quite terrifying, more because of his gender and possible harm he could do to her. They were all warmongers, monsters, and they could kill her faster than she could say 'oh no'. Finally, her brain kicked into gear, and she leaped in the other direction. It was an impressive display, to be honest. She vaulted upward, and her body twisted in a way that seemed like it would be a little painful- forepaws moving nearly one hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction while she arced backward through the air. Without another sound out of her, save for the loud thud of her feet hitting the ground, she was off like a shot. I can run faster than them, they're meant to fight, so they're bulkier. Just keep running, and I'll be okay. Her mind provided, though it meant little to her muscles, as they started to feel the strain from running full out after her initial screw up and that feat of acrobatics.

It wasn't until her vision was filled with the labyrinth of trees that she realized her disadvantage. She needed a clear head to navigate through here, and that wasn't something she had at the moment. Skidding to yet another screeching halt, she frantically sought a hiding place. The goddess had favoured her, thankfully. A hollow among the roots of the tree in front of her provided just enough space for her petite frame. Thoughtlessly, she dove into the safe darkness. The burrow smelled like peat. A safe, peaceful smell. It filled her nose and calmed her mind, but did nothing to still her quivering limbs or steady the staccato beat of her heart. What if they found her? A small whimper escaped, despite how tightly her throat had closed itself.