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[Soren]

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Snot ran in globs down her arms to form puddles of mucus where she had fallen on her hands. Her hair, once a neatly combed ponytail of deep red, was now slick and congealing. Soren blinked twice, unwilling to move with the dragon’s nose and teeth so close to her. He, at least she was guessing it was a he, must not have thought her that interesting because it sniffled slightly and turned its mouth up in what looked like disgust. Haughtily is reared its brilliant flame colored head up and sauntered off in the opposite direction. At the Dragon’s snobbish 360° Soren took in her first easy breath in what had felt like hours. She pushed herself up off the ground and glanced down at her ruined dress. There was no way she was going to get that clean she thought to herself. Her pack, was it still intact? Carefully she inspected her the contents of her pockets. Everything still seemed in good condition, albeit sticky. Well she supposed she would have to add another 12 reams of cloth to her tailoring order. Pausing to check around her for any additional creatures she set off in search of the tailor shop. 20 minutes later she had placed her order and been given a time at which her supplies could be picked up. There would be too much for her to carry alone, she would have to in list the aid of either a pack horse or Phaidra Lenoir.

A similar amount of time followed suit at the blacksmith. Content with her purchases Soren began the walk back to the Moongate. She had just passed the carpenter shop when she came across a small doe grazing in the field. Soren tilted her head to get a better look. The animal was muscular but not oversized. The legs were lean and the hide was in excellent condition. The Hide!!! Leather, she would need leather to complete the new pair of boots her mistress had requested of her. Reaching into the tiny pack she carried with her she felt for the dagger in her right hand pocket. Grabbing a comfortable grip on its hilt she drew it and crouched into a hunched position. What was it she had been taught? Go slow, be quiet and don’t spook the animal. Once she had gotten within four feet she lunged at the doe, her arms just barely managing to get a hold of its torso. This was made more difficult because she was now in motion with the doe. It had taken off in a bolt, its back legs kicking furiously in an effort to force her off. Not only had she sustained many of these kicks to her knees but her tiny frame had been partially flipped into the air and then dragged right along with it. It took 45 paces before common sense set in and Soren let go, watching the deer run straight into the thick of the trees. Now back on the ground in a face down position the thought of simply not moving for a few hours weighed heavily in her mind. Unfortunately she need hides and they were simply too expensive to purchase. Her Mistress would not be pleased at the sum when she could make them for almost nothing. Nothing, but her own blood and sweat that is.

For the second time that day Soren pushed herself up and dusted off what she could of her dress. Biting her bottom lip she looked around the grassy area she now occupied. The doe had dragged her 30 paces north of the Moongate. In solemn contemplation she blew the tendrils of auburn spirals that had come loose from their confines, away from her face. There, between her and the moongate stood one more chance for a hide. Her last chance before having to ask for help. She really did not want to have to do that. That last chance as it were was none other than a very slow, very large bull with its rear turned towards her. Maybe if she could get close enough without it realizing she was there. …

Quietly she splayed her arms out in an open manner, the dagger held in her right hand tightly. Tiny step after tiny step she inched closer to the beast. She tried to control her breathing knowing full and well that any noise would spook the animal. Two more steps and she would be within striking range! That was never going to happen though as at that moment her foot missed its mark and hit a twig. A loud crack lit up the clearing. The bull turned, its horns very clearly pointed now in her direction. Those horns were the last thing Soren saw before the black wreath of pain enveloped her.

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She had no clue how long she had been there, but her eyes slowly began to open. The colors swam together for a few moments as consciousness took hold. She would have sat bolt upright looking for the bull to ensure it wasn’t anywhere still nearby but the idea alone made her ache even more. “You’re still alive? That’s a shame.” Standing over her slightly broken figure was Phaidra Lenoir with a grin spreading across her face as if she had just witnessed a bird being delectably eaten by a feline.