Running, he felt like he'd been running his whole life. Of course, in reality he'd only been running for a few hours, but already his heart rapped against his ribs as if it were about to burst. He couldn't stop, couldn't even if the dogs were hot on his trail. He knew the horrors their teeth would inflict on his flesh if they caught up to him. He had to keep going, everything in him told him that stopping even for a second would mean certain death. Yet it wasn't death he feared for he was an Umbraeon and death was a part of life as war was. It was the thought of what would happen to him should he not die, but instead be captured.
He moved southward as carefully as he could. Evidently it wasn't careful enough, for it wasn't long before he interrupted the business of these Plains slavers. He tried to hide to shake him off his trail but nothing worked. And already he'd covered miles toward the south and when he reached the desert edge he was sure that would deter his pursuers. He did not expect them to press for him even harder though, and with his skin as dark volcanic soot, he'd stand out against the sands. Even if he could run such long distances without tiring, he knew he couldn't run forever and furthermore, he knew his pursuers knew that as well.
The sun was high and sweat drenched his face so that he was blinded. Hysaeda made his way between a set of dunes and stopped to rest only for a moment. He glanced behind him after wiping away the sweat from brow and eyes. He saw the horsemen riding hard across the sand, their dogs running free and well ahead of them. Hysaeda looked back ahead and immediately began again, scaling the dune nearest him despite his body's dire protest. His throat was dry and hoarse, feet aching and blistered. Behind him he heard the whines and barks and snarls of dogs on the hunt. Sand shifted as they too began their climb.
As he reached the zenith of the dune, one hound had been quicker than the rest and made a leap for his throat. Hysaeda was knocked down with the force and tumbled backwards down the dune, struggling against the beast that snapped its ugly, gnarled teeth at him. Those teeth cut into his arm that came up to guard his face. He grunted and snarled at the dog and clubbed it across the skull with his fist. The dog came off him just as he tumbled to the bottom of the dune. But the other hounds grew excited and ever eager to get a taste of their prey as their brother had done. Each made a jump for Hysaeda. He knocked two away from him, they yelped in surprise, but the other three jumped at just the right moment, knocking him down on his back.
Hysaeda struggled against the three that worked to get at his face and neck. His arms were scraped, scratched, and embedded with teeth marks and bleeding where their teeth had gotten through. A dog bit at his leg and he tried to kick off the animal but it clung fast. He yelled out in pain and knew it would only be a matter of time before the slavers caught up to him.
He was tried and worn out and could have sworn he was starting to hallucinate as he heard the whistle of an object moving fast through the air. It collided with the dogs, knocking one off him and he heard the yelps as it sailed to the side. Another dog was struck and cried as it ran off. It all happened so fast, Hysaeda barely had time to register it. His eyes were blurry and they were sore as he saw the figure peer over him, nothing more than a shadow against the sunlight.
