Alea had not slept well the previous night. Too many bad dreams, memories of events that, despite being almost a year old, were still far too fresh. She had been with
Yuros for the past few days, but yesterday, he'd gone to check up on his mother. At least she knew where he was going this time, and why, but it still somehow brought up painful memories of
last spring, when he had left, but they had both been unable to say anything.
Her dreams last night had been a confused mess of old memories and emotions from that time. There was one memory in particular which had stood out. That spring, she had gone running, not thinking about why at the time, but on reflection is was probably an attempt to feel more in tune with Yuros, even though he was gone. That run had not ended well... she'd been attacked by a mad Jamoura, and defeated pretty badly.Without a clear idea why, she decided to revisit the past by taking a run in the forest. She felt that these memories had surfaced for a reason, so she wanted to follow them where they led her. She breathed in the cool, damp air of the recent rain as she pumped her jittery legs. It had been some time since she'd run any great distance. At first, she just look off as fast as her legs wanted to carry her, and with all the memories she had chasing her this morning, they carried her decently fast. But soon, she became winded. She recalled with an effort what Yuros had taught her about breathing, and finding her own pace. Soon enough, she was breathing regularly, running steadily through the woods, hopping over protruding roots and other dangerous footing. Focusing on the relatively simple task of not tripping left the rest of her mind free to wander on more complicated matters, like more dreams from last night.
Her dream-like thoughts had shifted to a more present threat: not too many days ago, she'd met a man almost as big as a Jamoura, and perhaps even more mad than the one she'd met that day. She knew she might one day be unable to avoid a confrontation with this man, "Ximal," if only because she couldn't stand the way he threw his weight around like it meant something. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure at this point that he wouldn't
crush her into meatpaste if she called him out. Which brought her to her main problem.
She wasn't strong enough. There were things on Mizahar that could kill her with ease, and she was nowhere near strong enough to have a chance of stopping them. If she couldn't hurt her enemies, she would never be able to protect what was important to her... just like she had failed to protect--
Before she was forced to complete that unpleasant thought, she noticed something that struck an uncomfortable chord with her thoughts of this morning. A year ago she wouldn't even have noticed the black shape sitting against the tree a few dozen yards off... but a lot had changed since then. She flashed sharply back to her run-in with the Jamoura last spring, the suddenness of the attack, how she'd barely held her own, been thrown hard, her shoulder popping out of its socket, flying through the air, crashing into the underbrush. The only thoughts clear in her mind had been how to survive...
A red haze settled onto Alea's mind. The thought came loud and clear: she would not be caught by surprise again. With a split-second of thought, she decided her best position would be if she could somehow get onto his back. She did not scream as she charged, as it would be an unnecessary waste of energy, and she was not here to play. She simply ran at him, focusing on her breathing, covered almost from head to toe in lynx fur. She jumped for his back, trying to establish her grip before she tried to make her next move.
by Alea Davenport on December 24th, 2012, 1:05 am 
