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[Merevaika]

Merevaika

oocI'll accept most people, just wanted this thread to not take too long

87th Winter 515

Just because the Great Race was cancelled didn't mean that the riders of Endrykas weren't to have one. It just meant that the race they did hold was less organised, more wild and less known, open to those invited or those that had happened to hear about it as they moved through the tent city.

One of those to overhear the plans was Merevaika, who's ears had pricked up at the mention. She was wild, crazy and a gambler. She found sitting on a horse more natural than breathing, riding like the wind, fast and furious. She was reckless like thunder and quick like lightning. This was something she had been waiting for, an opportunity she couldn't miss.

And Eryunt wanted to run with the horses, hooves in synchrony, chasing ahead like he knew how. He was a wild horse in heart and nature, and wanted to show the others how to run like a stallion. At the mention of a race, his ears pricked up, matching his riders. She had listened carefully, the date, the time, the location. She had memorised it like she had learnt Eryunt.

Now she was ready to ride but there was thing stopping her. Her sister.

Ywana stared at her, blocking her way out of the tent with a firm stance and quarterstaff in hand. The woman had her son behind her, Vaikar clutching her skirts tightly. He looked scared, perhaps because of the firm expression on his mother's face. She reminded Merevaika of herself when she was angry, the same flame burning through.

"Merevaika, you promised to look after the children today. Keep your promises, or I won't keep mine."
Merevaika stared back, steady expression. Ywana would not stand in her way. "He is your child. I refuse to be the one you dump him with when you get bored of being a mother." Ywana looked at her with such distaste that Merevaika almost gave in. But the eagerness to race was overpowering, and she formulated a plan to keep both happy.
"But Ywana, I will take him. I will take care of him and Sula. On one condition: I can leave this campsite with them, take them out a little."
Ywana made no move to protest, "As long as they are both safe and here when we return this evening, alright."With a sign of thanks, Ywana joined the other adults in her pavilion, taking a bow and riding away to the hunt.

The moment she was gone, Merevaika grabbed one of the Semes that grazed near the tents. On the old mare's back, she placed all the children, glad they were all young. Leading the horse and letting Eryunt followed, she made her way towards where the race was to be held, horses behind her.

There was a tent erected at the location, in which the main organiser sat, taking everyone's name. Horses were lined up beside it, their riders tending to their mounts. Merevaika left the Seme and Strider alone, taking a moment to enter the tent.

The man that sat there was heavily tattooed, large and muscular too. Short though and the woman towered over him. He looked up at her, sizing up the woman, before taking the sheet with all the scrawled names on. "There's a fee, too. 2 gold mizas ought to do it." His voice was high, higher than she expected with a man his appearance, but didn't let that stop her throwing the coins over, "Name?"

"Merevaika Stormchaser, riding Eryunt," she replied, watching as he listed her as a competitor too.
"Prepare your horse. The race will start soon."

Merevaika emerged outside, hurrying to where the young children sat, still perched on the Seme. One by one, she helped them down, warning them to stay by the tent, by the Seme and by each other. Then she walked over to where Eryunt stood, who snorted and stamped at the vicious looking stallions. They were all fit to race. Soon, Eryunt would be too.

She groomed him over, dislodging all dust and dirt. She picked his hooves clean of any stones and adjusted the yvas on him, comfortable for riding. Then she marched him around, getting warmed up for the running. A voice called out, asking competitors to come to the starting line. Merevaika smiled. The race was about to start.



"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Amunet]

Where there is a competition of any kind, there is inevitably injuries. Amunet had volunteered to man the tent to tend to the injuries of human and animals alike. Though her experience was for humans, she could at least help stabilize a horse till one of the more capable veterinarians arrived. She came out of the tent to see the race was about ready to start. Her cowl was down showing the waves of red hair that seemed to escape out of the wool confines. She turned her head behind her. “Hey Drak, you want to see the race start?”

A dark ash blonde headed boy came out with a start. The two had been inseparable since Amunet’s return from the pirates. They didn’t speak of it, but clung together to survive. “Yeah, Ami. “ The Stardown race was something of legend. What boy didn’t think of moving at break neck speed with your Strider through treacherous terrain to win the prize. His eyes was ablaze as he saw the competitors at the starting line.

The young healer turned her head to see small children by a Seme off to the side. She didn’t think much of it at all. Many people take their children to see the race even if this one was off the record. This was about honor and pride mostly at this point. The little woman closed her eyes and bowed her head briefly saying a prayer to Rak’keli for everyone’s health and well being including the horses. It was foolish to think no one would come out of this with no injury but to come out of this in one piece was something to pray for. The red head looked up to see the race start.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

"Rules are simple. There are flags marking out the path. You must stay inside them at all times. You must stay on your horse at all times. Placing a foot on the ground, for whatever reason, will result in a disqualification. You may only have what you bring with you on your horse during the race. Nothing else must be passed to the racers. The first to reach back here and cross the finish line, wins."

Merevaika looked at the other racers, eager to learn her competitors. What surprised her was the amount of weapons they had with them, for nearly every was armed with a spear or bow. She moved her hand to her own dagger hanging at her belt, bringing it out in preparation. So this was a dirty race. No problem. They were the best kind.

A call came out, counting down. Horses around her started paving the ground, Eryunt himself tossing his head. "Easy boy," she whispered, stroking him to settle him, "We're going to win, no problem."
"GO!"

The announcement was almost unexpected but her horse reacted even if she didn't. They raced forward, Merevaika moving back into position as she pushed her horse forward, letting him run with the others as she concentrated on the real dangers. There was a short man with a large, bulky horse behind them, curved blade bouncing up and down from where it hung against the horse's side.

He pushed forward, horse slowly catching up with Eryunt as the rider moved closer beside them. He brought out his weapon, but didn't use it, instead swerving his horse into them. The Strider protested a little but did so anyway, smashing against Merevaika's own horse. Eryunt tried to turn and bite the horse attacking him but Merevaika grabbed his mane, trying to straighten him out with sharp tugs.

Snorting hard, he kept straight, leaving Merevaika to deal with the man. She placed her weapon in her left hand, swiping out at him. He ducked out of the way, confusing his horse that jumped forward. The man slipped off, landing in Eryunt's path.

Merevaika kicked him faster, ready to jump. Eryunt acted instinctively, leaping through the air as Merevaika gripped with her knees, moving with the movement. They landed harm, snagging the man's outstretched arm with a crunch. He let out a ground as his arm broke but Merevaika had long forgotten him, moving forward. They raced past other contestants, winding between those fighting, towards a large ditch in the ground.

She showed Eryunt no fear, for there was no fear, so he trusted her. They moved quickly, bounding off the edge of the ditch and sailing over with a smooth landing. The riding had gone well so far. Only three remained in front, with many behind, several injured like the man with the broken arm. This race was dirty, and she hadn't even had the most of it.



"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Aoife Oakheart]

Harv let out a snort as he stood viewing the racers meet. Aoife gave his neck a gentle pat the eased him toward the group. He flicked and threw his head into the air, causing the girl to chuckle. “If only you were this excited about everything else, Harv, my boy.” She let out a deep breath through her teeth then clicked her tongue which allowed him to break into a slow trot. As much as she had been raised riding, racing had never been a talent of hers. She didn’t really know why she would even consider it, but Harv lived for it. He wasn’t happy unless he was neck and neck with another horse. He was forced to drag her everywhere, the least she could do was let him have a little fun everyone once in awhile. After all, what harm could it do?

They slowed to a stop outside the organizer tent. The girl gave a nod of greeting to the woman nearby and then ducked down so she was nearly hugging her horse. “Hello,” her grin shot into the tent. “Mind if we join in?”

Slight annoyance flashed across the man’s face. “Hello, yes, the race is about to start so you’d better be quick about it. Two gold mizas and your name.”

Aoife sat back up, quickly scrounging around her pockets for a couple of coins and tossing them over. “Aoife Oakheart, riding Harvest.”

The man scowled as he had to pick up one of the coins out of the dirt. “Hurry up then. Starting line.”

Girl and horse trotted over to the line just in time for the rules to be relayed. She took another deep breath and mumbled “Better know what you’re doing, Harv, I’m not sure what you got me into.” She felt very small and very much like she suddenly wished she had joined the woman and children on the sidelines. A man beside her smirked and it was that she noticed that she was grossly lacking in weapons compared to everyone else -- which wasn’t hard to do as hers numbered zero. She was just about to back out, count the two mizas as a loss when the horses surged forward, Harv included.

Her teeth rattled in her mouth and she clung to him tight, probably squeezing him far too hard but he didn’t seem to care. Through his talents alone they wove between racers. He ran, she tried desperately to hold on. She had ridden fast before, but this felt different. Dangerous.

Then it felt even more dangerous. A blade cut through the air in front of her face by pure luck it didn’t skewer itself into her face. It was close enough though that it sliced a short line into her shoulder as the wielder's horse pulled away. Aoife let out a gasp of shock, turning to the man, utterly horrified. It was the smirker from the beginning of the race. As she did though, Harv’s foot faltered in the mud. She wasn’t balanced properly and let out a yelp as she slipped from his back.

Aoife curled herself into a ball as she fell. She may not be the best rider but she sure knew how to fall. She hit the hoof-torn muddy ground with a half-roll, thankfully not under the feet of another horse. A handful of riders stormed past her and her gaze followed them along the track. She lifted a muddy hand to her mouth as just a short distance ahead a man fell from his horse. And had another horse land on top of him as far as she could see. Even from that distance she heard the crunch.

Not taking the time to check herself for injuries, Aoife picked herself up and ran to the man. On a quick check it wasn’t as bad as she had first thought, just his arm. His arm. It was a mess. The girl let out a shriek. “Help!” she managed to choke out, not knowing if anyone could even hear her. The racers were already far ahead. She didn’t notice that Harv had pried himself from the race and was slowly walking back to her through the mud. All she could see was the arm. The mangled broken arm. All she could think about was that her mind was blank. What was she meant to do?

[Amunet]

The young woman kept her brother close as they watched the race start with a startling sound as the ground shook with the power of the Striders taking off and running at break neck speed to get an advantage over the others. Most of them were decently armed for the dangers of this course. There were predators spotted out there. At least that was the last report she heard the watch talk about. Not that the young healer was prone to eavesdropping but the watch tend not to pay attention to her presence or didn’t care if she was there or not. It wasn’t like she was in the race or out causing trouble.

The race started with the expected heart wrenching, heart racing pounding she expected it to be. Her eyes brightened and widened as the Striders shouldered for position. The riders seemed to get a bit more physical than she thought was very safe or nice. The girl had to remind herself that this was not supposed to be nice. Still she didn’t like it. The girl took a deep breath and girded her courage as she walked the churning back end of disappearing horses. The first victims of the race was a little quicker than she thought would happen.

“Well that was fast.” The Healer said to no one in particular.

“What sis?” Her little brother looked up at her with that confused expression. Not that Amunet didn’t confuse him from time to time. His sister had a habit of that.

“Nothing Drak. Looks like its time for me to work. Stay in the tent and let anyone know that I will be back. “ She said to him as she pointed to the tent set up for her to work in. She went to her makeshift kit she used that kind of grew on its own from her travels and people she encountered. The common needs that occurred made the kit. Sort of. Necessity was often the mother of invention. She tried to remember where that came from and then exhaled another long one as it was her grandfather who had said it. The girl mounted her Strider who had no interest in the race.

The mare loved to run, but it was not in competition. The well muscled Strider was not fast. The Strider was soon flanked by two of the watch as Amunet nodded to them. With the way this race is, it was a necessity to keep the Healer protected. She road towards the first of the fallen. A blonde woman was near another form on the ground. Her startling sky blue eyes with gold sunbursts saw the Striders nearby.
"Check the Striders, please.” The red head asked as she dismounted smoothly and quickly came near the blonde woman. Her eye for detail didn’t take her long to see the man’s arm was in positions an arm should not be in.

She looked into the man’s pale face as her silken soothing voice gave reassurances to both of them. “I am Amunet of the River Flower. It will be well.” The girl said with such a confidence. The urgency she felt was more to the man than the woman as the blonde woman seemed to move in a manner to indicate she was not too badly hurt and could wait a few chimes.

The right side of her face had a bold long mark on it that spanned from her temple , across her delicate cheek and then down the ‘C’ of her jaw that was an elegant swirling sigils that had winged serpents intertwined an elegant knotted staff that leafed out. The opalescent quality of the mark darkened and lightened as her bare hand would be on the face of the man. “Be at peace.” The massive amount of pain would soon melt for the girl to take a more serious look at the arm.

Out came her dagger as she sliced through the material to reveal the mangled mess of his arm. The sigil wound fire again that would purify the wounds, the bone sticking through and the flesh revealed. Amunet would call to the watch who said the Striders seemed to be fine with the man’s Strider favoring a leg slightly. The man looked relieved his Strider was in far better shape than he was in. “I need to largish sticks to stabilize this arm. We will need to get him to Nehrar. I can get him comfortable but hes going to need more than I can provide. “

It was possible the man could lose his arm even with the purification the mark provided. The bones would be difficult to set. She cleaned the wounds and prepare it to try and set the bone back in. It was a long shot. Nehrar would determine if it could be saved but she had to try. “I will need to set this. “She looked at the man. The man looked at her understanding as he nodded back. The girl looked at the blonde woman. “This is likely to hurt a lot. I need you to sit on his other shoulder to keep it from moving.

The man came back with the sticks she would use to try and splint it. She took a deep breath as she looked at the arm and at his Strider. “Looks like your Strider will be alright. We can get the Veterinarian to take a look, I will see what I can do.” When the man turned his head, that was when Amunet would pull strongly, firmly and in a single direction to pull the bone back into the muscle and skin and back into place. It was at least partially there. The man screamed before passing out. “They usually pass out from that.” Not that was very reassuring, but she felt the blonde woman needed the explanation. The sticks went on the top and bottom quickly “Hold this here. “ before she started the bandage the arm up.

The arm would be also bandaged to the chest so it didn’t move. With that she looked at the blonde before standing up to go look at the Strider, ”Are you without harm?” She asked her offering her a kind and concerned expression as she moved towards the man’s strider and the men of the Watch prepared a litter to take the man to the clinic and arrange to get him to the River Flower.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

People stumbled around her. Someone fell from their horse and ran towards the injured man, another red head joining her. Someone in front lunged at the horse next to them, jumping off and making a strange manoeuvre to land behind them. The two struggled with each other, the one behind holding the other in a headlock as the horse galloped wildly, following the leading horse. They slowed, grappling onto each other, horse unsteady with the movement and weight on her back.

Merevaika used this as her chance, leaning forward as Eryunt picked up speed. Hooves flew over the ground, sending snow and dirt up in streaks behind them. He pushed forward, linking into the Web as his legs bulged with muscles. Magic coursed through his body, giving him the speed to reach the two horses. Merevaika leant to the left at the last moment, Eryunt striking his hooves on the ground at a sharp angle as he darted between the two. It was a risky move, Merevaika flailing and only just catching herself with a firm handful of his mane.

But it worked. She moved Eryunt forward, catching her breath with excitement as she forced the horse without rider to move away, preventing either of the other riders to go back. The Strider whinnied, galloping harder to avoid the incoming horse, but was only forced more to the side, Merevaika with a plan in mind. There was a river in the race course, large, flowing water. Marked was a shallow section for them to traverse, the rest rough and deep. At the section the horses and rider were heading to, the water was deep, very rocky, unpassable.

With one last click of the tongue, Merevaika leant out of her seat, hitting the mare's behind hard. The horse moved away quickly, rearing at the sight of water and stopping instantly. Merevaika wasn't even watching, leaning suddenly away to return to the middle of the flagged course. They missed a flag, but only just, the cloth running past her fingers as the wind pushed it towards them. Eryunt showed no fear entering the water, trusting his rider to not lead him to danger. Water sloshed around them, soaking into her boots, but Merevaika's mind was focused on nothing but the rider ahead.

With her stunt with the rider-less horse, it had left the two on one unable to ride fast and far, fighting for control. Too slow to catch up with her, securing her second place, as far as she could tell. There was only the sole rider in front, long black cloak trailing behind a large bay horse, glowing lightly with the magic coursing through him. Eryunt could do that.

Stepping out of the water, he tapped into the web, drawing energy as they began to near the horse in front. Merevaika gritted her teeth, begging Eryunt to move faster and faster as wind tore at her eye, bringing light tears when it hit her eyes. She was going to make it, she was going to make it...


"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

A ditch stopped them, Eryunt tumbling as it came in sight. No, she wouldn't let something so simple stop them. Instead of letting them slow, she pushed Eryunt to go faster, leaping through the air. The woman clung to her yvas, rising up out of her saddle as she flew through the air. The landing was rough, the rider slipping off Eryunt's back and holding on tight at one side. His legs moved beside her, still powerful but slowing with the problem with his rider.

Merevaika wouldn't let him, calling out over his hooves for him to go faster. Confused, the Strider stayed at his speed, not wanting to hurt the woman. Merevaika grabbed harder with her left hand, holding the yvas tight as her other hand moved to grip his mane. The leg on the horse wrapped around his body, feeling his breaths as he ran. Slowly, she pulled herself back up, clinging tight the best she could.

She urged her horse forward, catching up to the rider in black. She couldn't see his face, but did notice the long sword glinting, ready in his hand. Merevaika looked at her own dagger and laughed. Getting this far seemed impossibly easy.

"Nice horse," she said, testing. It was a nice horse, magic coursing through his veins as the stallion powered forward, not even a sign of sweat. The rider turned towards her, wielding the weapon in a hypnotising way.

"Likewise. Shame if anything were to happen to him." Merevaika's look was one of pure horror. He hadn't threatened to hurt a Strider, had he? The man laughed, leaning forward as the horse sprinted on, "Ha! You thought I was being serious." His laugh was chilling, but also good humoured, "You seem like a worthy rider. Let's make this purely riding, shall we?"

Merevaika grinned, not listening to him as he put his sword to the other side. Her dagger remained clutched in her hand. She played dirty. If he didn't, it only made it easier.

Yet the finish line was closing up. Merevaika gripped the yvas tight, feeling Eryunt strain to keep up, to catch up, with the bay stallion they chased. People shouted, egging them on, cursing them for being first, warning.

Warning. As she powered forward, she didn't see anything but the bay horse in front. Eyes focused on that, purely on that, target in sight.

Then the bay horse and rider swerved so suddenly, she couldn't believe her luck. Eryunt raced forward, legs thundering across the dirt track.

What happened next wasn't clear.

He reared, the noise of his cries echoing through the air. Merevaika clung onto his yvas, but ultimately fell. There was a crunch - was that before, or after? It wasn't her. The Strider stamped around nervously, snorting wildly and kicking his legs in the air. Merevaika cowered on the ground, still clutching the dagger. Her eyes watched Eryunt, then turned to the crowd, watching in near silence. Their eyes weren't on her but further in front.

Following their gaze, she was left staring at the body of a child. A child she knew well.

Shock raced through her. Vaikar, what was he doing? He was still, unmoving, arms and legs flailed at strange angles. Blood ran from where he had a gash in his forehead - no, not a gash. It was crushed, his skull crushed.

It pieced together. She had ran over her own nephew. He was dead. Her eyes went to the crowd, who now watched her like she was a monster. She saw a group, returning from a hunt stop at the commotion. Her sister's husband. Her sister. They watched terrified.

Merevaika rose scared, calming Eryunt. She placed a hand on his back, ready to climb on.

To the spectators, it must have looked like at the sight of the boy, she had sped up, eager to hit him. She must have looked like a monster. That was what everyone's eyes told her. Paralysed, she stood and watch what happened next.


"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Amunet]

The rider was taken for further treatment to the River Flower as she mounted Shetanae to return to the tent and put to record what her part had been performed. The man’s arm would likely be lost as madly mangled it was, but he would have his life. Nehrar would know what to do as she provided those who carried him there her statement. There were other minor injuries she dealt with but her and her brother could watch the finish of the race as they neared the edge of the marked racing trail.

There are times where certain events happen as if in slow motion. One remembers every single detail from that time. In a split tick she told Drak to go back to the tents and bring her kit to her now as the red head ran to the flailing arms of the kid. The rearing horse and the sudden stop played over and over in her head like a bad dream. Her knees skidded to a stop right by the kid as she took his small hand into her own and prayed dearly and hard to Rak’keli to relieve this boy of his pain and …

There comes a time when you know that look in the eyes, that glaze over like glass when it is the last. The last breath barely expelled barely in a faint bubble of air. The urge within her ceased and she knew without a shadow of a doubt the child was beyond her reach. The tears that dropped from her cheek told the watch and those close what they needed as her hand slowly went down to close those glassy expressionless eyes. Her head bowed down as she prayed for the child to walk the web and find his next life. The hand was gently laid down on the chest. The girl took the other hand and put it across the same way as she tilted the head up to the sky. “We are children of the wind, in the wind we stay and in the web we are reborn.”

It went mostly unheard but she hoped the gods heard it. The Healer looked around as blame was being caste. Her brow furrowed in confusion as the child ran in front of running horses. Before she knew it the dark haired woman was on her horse and galloping away with a group not too far behind her in hot pursuit. The people around were yelling and screaming all sorts of accusations, least of which was murderer. The red head was in no position to counter any of that as the bereaved parents picked up the remains of their child to seek burial. Her hand reached out to them but what can she say to them? To say that all would be well sounded foolish and hollow. This season of death and destruction saw that to follow was more sorrow. Her head bent down and she looked at Drak who’s little mind was trying to understand what had happened.

The young woman got up and quietly ushered her little brother back to the medical tents. “Will that little boy be healed up right? “ He asked .

“No Drak. The little boy is dead. There was nothing I could do. Short of a God, his injuries were past my skill. “ Amunet said softly as she went down to one knee. “You understand that life is sometimes short and precious on the Grass?”

His face took on a serious expression. “Yeah. Our family is gone too. Guess I hoped..” He sniffed a second as he looked down.

“There is always hope, Drak,“ as she looked up from her knelled position into his eyes. “You and I are still alive. You and I are family.”

His smile was halfhearted but he wrapped his arms around her neck and held tightly. The little lady held on just as tightly. Her eyes closed and prayed with all of her might to Rak’keli, Zulrav, Caiyha, Syna, Leth, Kihala, and several others for this one precious moment that her and her brother were still alive.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

A redhead ran out, ready to do what she could. She knelt over the small body, but even before the tears came, Merevaika knew it was too late. He was dead. She had killed him. She had killed before, but never like this. Never a defenceless child, never without it being for defence or for a purpose. Never her nephew, her own blood and bone, named for her.

The woman muttered a prayer, placing the boy's hand on his chest. But Merevaika had stopped staring at her like a spirit in Dira's presence, She swung onto Eryunt's back, holding the yvas tight as she looked at the crowd that were ready to attack her. People yelled and screamed, some even grabbing weapons and mounted horses.

Merevaika turned Eryunt, bursting into a gallop. She looked back at the crowd, locking eyes with her sister. Such betrayal, anger, sorrow. It bled out with the tears, the slow sobbing at the realisation her son was gone. Merevaika made a single sign, sorry, before turning away, looking away. Her hair blew out as Eryunt burst forward, darting between people as he ran away from Endrykas, towards the south.

She heard people follow her, the thundering of hooves and the lightning shots of spears and arrows as she refused to stop. No longer was she a Stormchaser - rather, she was chased by a storm of angry step-somethings, furious with the death of the heir. A spear thudded in front of her, Merevaika shifting her weight on Eryunt to avoid it, then to swerve nearer to fetch it.

Grasping the handle tightly, she yanked it out the ground, desperate for a long range weapon. An arrow whizzed past her head, Merevaika only just moving to avoid it. Eryunt released a startled noise, feeling the web course through him as he tried to outrun the attackers. Merevaika turned, throwing the spear in the best arc she could. It tumbled through the air, smacking against one of the riders.

She didn't see anymore. The wind whipped into her eyes and as she rode, night slowly came. The mob were still behind her, then weren't, but she kept riding. Riding to the end of the world.



"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Amunet]

The echoes of sadness was drowned by the present voices of anger and righteousness that the surrounding people felt that should be paid. Paid preferably in more blood. It was a tragic set of circumstances that Amunet was powerless to hold back. This wave of consequence to action, no matter how much of an accident it was could not be stopped. The boy was wrapped up in a burial cloth for the sobbing family to take and be given rites for the boy to enter the web again. Amunet had no doubt the pure-hearted child would be well on his way to be reborn into a Strider or another Drykas. It was a firm belief of the Drykas of the afterlife. The endless cycle, knowing you would return again and again. There was an odd comfort to that.

It provided little comfort to the ailing and mourning parents. The dark haired woman took off as Amunet listened and heard the harsh words of her judge and jury bedeck her with exile. A kill on sight order was mentioned but it didn’t seem to go that far that the healer knew of. This was a horrible accident not cold blooded murder as she reviewed the horrid events in her head. Her eyes darted to the more experienced rider and recalled the unsteady seat that the dark haired woman had as she was desperately trying to win a race that stumped even master riders. The more experienced rider could react in time to avoid the child. Merevaika was not that experienced, not as aware as she used every ounce of her muscle and attention to cling onto the fast moving Strider. She did not have the reaction time to move before the hooves of the Strider struck the boy.

Was it truly her to blame? Not entirely, but blame was hers in that she entered a race that she had no business being involved instead of taking care of Pavilion matters and ensuring the children had a care taker. Still no one had stopped the child from darting, perhaps no one could have as children are unpredictable. Clear and present blame was not clear cut, yet entirety of judgement was being placed on this one lone rider who’s reputation as already well-marked and not a good one. The people all spoke harshly and Amunet found herself shaking her head as nothing made sense and several pieces of details were not coming together. The girl sighed as she went to the medical tent to see and tend to any remaining injuries before this day was done.