As Siiri ran the obstacle course, Miharu ran with her, though her feet never moved. She watched her bondmate with eyes and mind, catching snippets of thought that drifted across the bond as the woman tried to figure out how best to tackle each part of the track. There were things that Siiri did that she wouldn't be able to do, hadn't the
skill to do quite frankly, but she would figure something out.
She watched as Siiri planned out the route through the balance beams, and she had almost memorized it when a sharp jolt brought her back to her own body. "Deyhan!" a woman was yelling, motioning her to take her place beside the other Myrian who was already waiting. Without even realizing what she'd intended, she snarled and snapped her teeth at the offender's receding hand.
"I am a Myrian!" she growled, golden eyes narrowing as she stared down the other woman and stepped up to the line.
She reached down and grabbed a handful of mud, slopping it against her skin all the way up to her thighs on both legs, then ran her still-muddy hands over her soaked blond hair. The mud slicked it back and kept it from escaping the braids that held it back. She was having a hard time seeing through the rain, made even more difficult since her eye was still blackened and swollen. But she straightened as the woman raised an arm, tensing in preparation.
Then the arm dropped, and she was off. Bare feet handled the mud better than booted ones would have, her toes digging into the muck and spreading out her weight without the dragging feeling that shoes gave. She ran strangely, though, in leaps and bounds, almost daintily on the balls of her feet. The mud she'd spread over herself kept what stuck to her now from distracting her with its slimy touch, and in just a few heartbeats she reached the hurdles.
She went sailing over the first ones, likely more gracefully than she realized, but she'd had to leap and dodge over more than a few Talderan-sized tree trunks in her day. The seven-foot-tall hurdle was taken much the way Siiri had, with a flying leap so she could catch herself on it and haul her body over it, though she jumped higher than Siiri had and was able to catch it under her armpits rather than with her hands - but then there were a few scrambling seconds where her feet slipped and slid against the netting beneath the hurdle before her toes finally caught on and dug into the vines. With a few annoyed grunts, she hurled herself over and fell to the ground on the other side.
Landing, of course, had never been her most graceful endeavor. She didn't really
know how to land, but she knew how not to hurt herself when she fell. So instead of ending up on her feet, she twisted and hit the ground on her good shoulder, rolling harmlessly in the mud and then back upright. But now, of course, she had mud stuck in places she'd rather not think about, and the stupid skirt was twisted around her, and she could hear people yelling from the crowd and she'd no idea if they were yelling encouragement or insults but it was getting on her nerves. And her shoulder hurt, dammit.
With another sharp growl of frustration, she ripped at the knot holding the skirt on, forgetting in her heightened state whatever reason she'd had for letting Siiri put it on in the first place. She was too much the wolf now, too much the animal, and the course was her enemy and her prey. She would defeat it, take it in her teeth and shake the life from it, and she could do that with a stupid piece of mud-sodden blanket shoved up the crack of her ass.
The jeers from the crowd turned instantly into whoops and catcalls, but for some reason that bothered her less - it sounded like the manic birdsong in the jungle instead of just a babble of voices, and she looked up at the final tall hurdle with new resolution in her eyes.
"I come for you!" she snarled, grinning madly, and launched herself at the final hurdle.
She didn't try Siiri's little double-kickoff manuever, knowing good and well she'd never pull it off. Instead, she simply flung herself at the tangle of net beneath the hurdle and climbed up it. It was slippery, and made to hinder instead of help, and she was cursing soundly when she finally,
finally managed to reach the top crossbar. Had she been aware of things like time limits (or even, really, the passage of time) in her current state of mind, she would have known that this little strategy cost her precious minutes, but all she cared about was making it.
She clambored over the top of the hurdle... and then looked down at the mud that lay nine feet below her, and felt a surge of fury. It was too far! She would hurt herself. Gods damn it. With another growl, she swung her legs over the edge, catching her toes in the net once more, and began the slow process of shimmying down it a few precious feet until it was safe enough to jump. Then jump, twist,
splat! roll, and she was back in more familiar territory.
She cleared the last few hurdles without much difficulty, although she slipped on her landing for the last one and wiped out, slapping face-first into the mud, and felt as if her eye would explode right there. But a moment later the pain receded enough for her to move again, though by no means disappeared, and she clawed her way back up to her feet without waiting for it to.
Next came the vine wall, and she cringed as she stepped up to it. She had never really climbed a rope before, but she remembered the men in her village climbing up to the deer-blinds when she was a child. It looked similar, but the gods only knew if she could manage it.
She pulled herself up with her arms much as Siiri had, giving a sharp cry of pain as her shoulder let her know that it was
not ready to support all of her weight, thankyouverymuch. Almost immediately, she lifted her feet off the ground and caught the rope between them, letting her weight
sit on her feet instead of in her arms. Then she began to slowly make her way up it, feeling her bare back and buttocks sliding not-unpleasantly against the slick leaves of the ramp.
When she finally hauled herself up to the top of the ramp, her shoulder ached fiercely and she could feel every throbbing heartbeat reverberating beneath the skin of her face. She was in pain, and she was tired, and she hated everything
ever. But she wasn't done. So she stopped for a breath and looked out over the balance beams. She found the ones that Siiri had taken, and she took only a moment to check that all the mud from her feet had been left behind on the rope, and then she was off again.
The balance beams were taken a little faster, for she was much more sure of where her feet were and how she could place them. The beams were no more slippery than rocks in a river, and she'd danced across those many times. She was feeling terribly confident about the whole thing, and managed to make up some of her time - until a streak of lightning through the sky caught her off-guard and she balked. Her feet slid out from under her, and she landed half-on and half-off the beam, clutching it as if it were the only thing saving her from a grievous death. She panted, hugging the beam tightly until her heartbeat steadied, and then she slowly began climbing back up to her feet. That, it seemed, was harder than it looked, and it took three tries for her to make her way back upright.
When she got to the end of the last beam and back on solid (sorta) ground, she just leaned over and put her hands on her knees, catching her breath and refusing to even look at whatever fresh hell was waiting for her.
