How many days had they been traveling since the unfortunate attack on her hunting party? Probably just a few nights, but the haunting memories of her friends dying beneath strangers' blades haunted her even in the waking hours. The visions were not unlike the curling, whisping fog that rose up from the marshy lands they now traveled, silver light of the moon blanketed by it's veil. It created lurid shadows from the tree and scratchy underbrush, long, dying branches appearing like human sized, wicked thorns.
The jostle of the ride was no picnic either, the roads were unsteady, the cage she was locked within rocking less steady than a ship tossed in stormy seas. More than once she was thrown about within her confines, acruing angry bruises to go along with the hard lump on her head. It had taken a day or two for her to come around from that, and to realize just what happened-
She had been the only one to survive- and the only one these men had taken captive. She had no idea what their nefarious purpose was, but she could tell by their sharp eyes and wicked grins none of it was good. She barely spoke a word of common- hadn't a real need to, so whatever the men were saying were about as readable as the words spoken by the winds.
They must've been traveling a good bit of the night, because the marshes were becoming less wet and much thicker, with larger trees towering on the mountain way before them. The winds howled and rattled the tall trees against the foggied skies- a sound not unlike the call of thunder.
The Thunderblacks. They were traveling through the mountains. Clearing her sleep fogged head, she turned herself around within the cage. She had plenty of space to move within- her captors having been desiring a much larger load than the single girl they now processed. But time was of the essence, and it seemed they were happy enough with their cargo, or they wouldn't be traveling forward at all.
She must've been asleep for some time, the temperature had changed and sent chills down her body. She was not dressed for mountain weather, but that of the much warmer plains in which she had been taken. Her skirts were too short to be of much comfort, nor was her top- both of which just covered her slender form enough to protect herself from rough terrains when crawling about on a hunt.
She supposed the chill, as annoying as it was, helped lift her from the grog of sleep, for she would have had a rude awakening when the cage hit off an uneven rock jutting out from the road, and tossed her unceremoniously into the cage bars before her. She let out a squeaking growl of pain, her shoulder being wrenched back in an awful direction- when she noted how very loose the bar she struck was. She tested it a moment, realizing, she could infact, manipulate the bar to free herself! A rush of hope tickled up her spine and quickened the pace of her heart. But then turning, she noted the men approaching her side of the cage and she fell back.
They were checking out the damage, probably cursing something about the wheel and giving it a wriggle. Then, they turned to inspect the cage- and as they did so, she held her breath, fear all but consuming her as it seemed they might figure out one bar was looser than the others, and any of her plans to escape this nightmare would be shattered.
But the horses made a noise, and the men were quick to check on the beasts, leaving the girl once again to her own devices. She didn't dare move until the caravan was moving again, and as they slunk forward into the sleepy, misty night, she slipped forward and tested the bar. And then patiently waiting for the moment to slip out- she did.
There was a thick wall of bushes leading down a steep hillside lined with coltish trees, reaching out tall towards the incredibly tall heights of their parents. It offered lots of shadows, and lots of weeds, thickets and thorns that tore at her as she nearly tumbled down and threw them for her escape. But it was easy to ignore the burning tears at her flesh- they would heal, and the scrapes at her knees and hands. She had to keep moving, and to keep moving fast. She barely made it out of the thickets and just out of sight of the men on the road over head when she heard one of them cry out in alarm-
And she knew the chase was on. She didn't look back, but use her hands to shield herself from the oncoming brush, shoving low vines and branches aside while ducking beneath others. She heard the men behind her make another cry- one that tensed her entire spine to neck at the realization she had been seen. She spat, and dove into another nearby convoy of bushes, rushing through the thickets and wriggling out desperately to the other side. She then raced down through a cove of trees, the footing here had to be done with her dancer's grace, ones she had years of practice in the uneven, wild fields of the plains. The rocks were slippery, and the space between trees were narrowing, but she had to keep pressing forward, had to be sure of her footing-
But then her foot hit a hidden patch of pebbles, that seemed so sturdy in the foggy moonlight, but they gave way to reveal their truth, and Urdarhza found herself soon tumbling, to her knees, and down the steep hill side, body rolling uncontrollably over sharp, fallen trees and unforgiving rocks.
She wasn't sure how long she fell, but she lay there, in a pillow of mossy leaves, breathing heavy on her back as she stared up at the twinkling fog light streaming down between the ancient trees.
But the voices of the men on the hill side sobered her, and she sat up suddenly- now able to just barely see them ascending the hillside her way. She grit her teeth and crushed, scrambling towards a pair of tall, craggy boulders and hoping to use them as a momentary shield-
and found herself tripping over another fair of feet instead, her body crashing down unceremoniously, and unprettily, and very much painfully upon the body of a bloodied man.
