514 AV, 7th of the Yellow Stone.
A pack of Akila hounds was bad enough. Haasha could call upon the hazy memory of the run as she curled on the branch of the tree, trying to calm her shaky breath.
She was leaving the place where she spent the nighttime, to leave before the dawn, when she'd noticed a shuffle in the leaves, and a black beast silhouette sneaking up before lunging towards her with a short growl... To the majority of predators she was a relatively appealing threat. Skinny and small, with little meat on her bones whatsoever, she could maybe run fast, but certainly, from a predator's point of view, wouldn't fight back. And she ran. Through the bushes, over the smal half-dried stream, splashing water loudly, leaping over the water roots of the trees, into the thick foliage again, trying to catch a glance on her pursuitors as she fled for her dear life, quite literally. The backpack, unbuckled, hit her on the back, the flask flapped, and her thin legs smashed into the mud and stomped the grass.
The hounds were shortening distance very fast, and suddenly another, larger stream grew just before her. The muddy water was too treacherous, not even for the snakes, but the depth - Haasha was deeply unsure if she, or the contents of her pack, would survive the swim. Days and weeks of walking have worn her out.
Several instants to think, if only she wanted to live. A tree was bending over the water lightly, and if she took a risky jump, she could reach the higher branches. It seemed to be her best chance. Without slowing down for a second, Haasha ran along the grass-covered part of the bank of the stream, then jumped, taking foothold from the upper part of the root which stood out of the water slightly, worked up knees straightening with all the power she could lend.
The root bent down lightly, the backpack almost slipped off one of her shoulders, and her fingers proved to be quite sweaty - if not for the half-gloves, she'd be hanging above the shallow part of the water, within reach, on the tips of her fingers.
The hounds came in view as she climbed heavily on the branch, nails scraping on the trunk, legs shivering to stand up and climb higher, where she would definitely be out of reach. There were worse things to be met on the trees, but Haasha had more than a hypothetical problem to deal with at the moment...
Her hands hurt, her cheek caught fire a minute or so ago - probably a large scratch while speed-staggering in the intertwining goddamned roots and almost running her head into a tree. Her ankle was aching dully, she probably sprained it, and had to hope from there that it was not serious. Luckily, her body was covered enough not to have gotten any more scrapes, and her nails were hard enough not to break. She looked gloomily at her nails, then downwards. The hounds kept jumping at the tree. Haasha closed her eyes for a few seconds, feeling her heart pounding heavily.
An hour passed, then another one. Part of the pack was somewhere nearby, scouting for a more accessible victim, perhaps, the others could be seen under a tree. Haasha shuddered at an unusually loud howl somewhere nearby, then branches breaking, and another beast has drawn the attention of the pack, which took off to pursue almost immediately.
The night's last hunt didn't end with her only because the chase was short and she was lucky, the half-blood understood that clearly. When she came to her senses fully, she carefully took a look around the tree. There was a way to slide down it, at a dangerous angle, but if it was done from that lucky lower branch, she could land not in the muddy bank, but on the soft grass, neatly and quietly. If it was done right.
...she could swear she'd heard something. Instead of following the chosen course, the half-blood stilled behind the foliage's cover, eyes widening in the possible direction of the sound.
A pack of Akila hounds was bad enough. Haasha could call upon the hazy memory of the run as she curled on the branch of the tree, trying to calm her shaky breath.
She was leaving the place where she spent the nighttime, to leave before the dawn, when she'd noticed a shuffle in the leaves, and a black beast silhouette sneaking up before lunging towards her with a short growl... To the majority of predators she was a relatively appealing threat. Skinny and small, with little meat on her bones whatsoever, she could maybe run fast, but certainly, from a predator's point of view, wouldn't fight back. And she ran. Through the bushes, over the smal half-dried stream, splashing water loudly, leaping over the water roots of the trees, into the thick foliage again, trying to catch a glance on her pursuitors as she fled for her dear life, quite literally. The backpack, unbuckled, hit her on the back, the flask flapped, and her thin legs smashed into the mud and stomped the grass.
The hounds were shortening distance very fast, and suddenly another, larger stream grew just before her. The muddy water was too treacherous, not even for the snakes, but the depth - Haasha was deeply unsure if she, or the contents of her pack, would survive the swim. Days and weeks of walking have worn her out.
Several instants to think, if only she wanted to live. A tree was bending over the water lightly, and if she took a risky jump, she could reach the higher branches. It seemed to be her best chance. Without slowing down for a second, Haasha ran along the grass-covered part of the bank of the stream, then jumped, taking foothold from the upper part of the root which stood out of the water slightly, worked up knees straightening with all the power she could lend.
The root bent down lightly, the backpack almost slipped off one of her shoulders, and her fingers proved to be quite sweaty - if not for the half-gloves, she'd be hanging above the shallow part of the water, within reach, on the tips of her fingers.
The hounds came in view as she climbed heavily on the branch, nails scraping on the trunk, legs shivering to stand up and climb higher, where she would definitely be out of reach. There were worse things to be met on the trees, but Haasha had more than a hypothetical problem to deal with at the moment...
Her hands hurt, her cheek caught fire a minute or so ago - probably a large scratch while speed-staggering in the intertwining goddamned roots and almost running her head into a tree. Her ankle was aching dully, she probably sprained it, and had to hope from there that it was not serious. Luckily, her body was covered enough not to have gotten any more scrapes, and her nails were hard enough not to break. She looked gloomily at her nails, then downwards. The hounds kept jumping at the tree. Haasha closed her eyes for a few seconds, feeling her heart pounding heavily.
An hour passed, then another one. Part of the pack was somewhere nearby, scouting for a more accessible victim, perhaps, the others could be seen under a tree. Haasha shuddered at an unusually loud howl somewhere nearby, then branches breaking, and another beast has drawn the attention of the pack, which took off to pursue almost immediately.
The night's last hunt didn't end with her only because the chase was short and she was lucky, the half-blood understood that clearly. When she came to her senses fully, she carefully took a look around the tree. There was a way to slide down it, at a dangerous angle, but if it was done from that lucky lower branch, she could land not in the muddy bank, but on the soft grass, neatly and quietly. If it was done right.
...she could swear she'd heard something. Instead of following the chosen course, the half-blood stilled behind the foliage's cover, eyes widening in the possible direction of the sound.
