Sunday, January 22, 2012

Series: How I Met Your Druid

Haanta slid her back against a tree, laying her bow against her bent knees, hooves and forelocks crusty with mud, shards of obsidian, bloody, scraped, and cut. She didn't want the lurking wolves or dragonkin to smell the blood, circle in on her, and kill her. She was trapped by her injuries. Her pet, barely manageable or trained, detached from her side. "Disloyal beast," she thought, closing her smoke-filled and exhausted eyes. A bear shambled next to her, catching her off-guard. She scrambled to a stance, drew back her crossbow, poised to shoot. This would be no warning shot, but to kill. As she released the broadhead, simultaneously spotting his ancient markings on his fur, while green healing leaves rained and swept around her, whispering spirits. Her shot missed, thank the gods. He was her most lethal yet loyal friend, and she almost...dropping her bow, she collapsed in tears of fear and relief, the adrenaline push in her gut, almost making her vomit. Transforming to his Night Elf form, he took her face in his hands, just shaking his head. "Haanta, it would take more than one of your arrows to hurt this old bear. Let's go home before the next battle."

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