[She had thought the crash was the end. Jinba were strong, capable of great feats possible only thanks to the combination of human intelligence combined with bestial power, but they had a weakness- and that weakness was the devastating nature of leg wounds to creatures who weighed upwards of a ton, supported by bones made light for speed. The despair that had overcome her in that moment, when she'd awakened from unconsciousness to see blood and bone jutting from her shattered foreleg, had been too much to even process.
How unfair it seemed, that she would promise to live, swear to cast aside her designs to slit open her stomach in a last ditch attempt for honor and peace, that she would allow her vulnerability, her fear be seen by this man she swore to serve... only for that to happen. For a wound like that, one that had very little possibility of healing well even with rest and care, let alone in the conditions they found themselves in now.
But these people... some of them had "magic". Horrible, invasive, make her skin crawl spells that could affect her body and change it to the will of the caster- a horror very few others seemed to understand. Yet despite her revulsion, that magic had saved her life. Spared her from ache, now, in the aftermath. Allowed her to stand strong beside and slightly protectively in front of Ninurrta. (Hints of his own injuries had not escaped her gaze.)]
Something large approaches.
[She raises her head, her face, waiting for a scent on the pale wind that occasionally blew through the labyrinth, but all she smells is dust and stone and- wait.]
Something that carries with it the scent of old blood.
[It's enough to have her raise her bow, the weapon slightly longer than Ninurrta was tall, muscles in her arms and shoulders bulging as she draws back an arrow and sights along the shaft towards the place ahead of them where the path turns sharply right.
And soon, the sound that had been audible to her ears becomes loud enough to be heard by others.
no subject
How unfair it seemed, that she would promise to live, swear to cast aside her designs to slit open her stomach in a last ditch attempt for honor and peace, that she would allow her vulnerability, her fear be seen by this man she swore to serve... only for that to happen. For a wound like that, one that had very little possibility of healing well even with rest and care, let alone in the conditions they found themselves in now.
But these people... some of them had "magic". Horrible, invasive, make her skin crawl spells that could affect her body and change it to the will of the caster- a horror very few others seemed to understand. Yet despite her revulsion, that magic had saved her life. Spared her from ache, now, in the aftermath. Allowed her to stand strong beside and slightly protectively in front of Ninurrta. (Hints of his own injuries had not escaped her gaze.)]
Something large approaches.
[She raises her head, her face, waiting for a scent on the pale wind that occasionally blew through the labyrinth, but all she smells is dust and stone and- wait.]
Something that carries with it the scent of old blood.
[It's enough to have her raise her bow, the weapon slightly longer than Ninurrta was tall, muscles in her arms and shoulders bulging as she draws back an arrow and sights along the shaft towards the place ahead of them where the path turns sharply right.
And soon, the sound that had been audible to her ears becomes loud enough to be heard by others.
A dragging, heaving whisper of scales on stone.]