"Goddess, I can't tell you how-"
"Hurry!"
"Oh, right..."
The four Myrians didn't need to be told twice as they moved as fast as you can when trying not to appear as if you're moving fast. Razkar knew it was only a matter of time before Herliz noticed, however, and he heard her voice growl out from across the bar as Nyaela gave them one final shove out into the kitchen-
"They look bloody familiar..."
Shyke!
The couple of males preparing food - brothers, if Razkar had to guess; the features were far too similar, and they even seemed to smile and laugh simultaneously - pointed them to the door with their eyes, and Razkar was almost pushing Woxma and Erama through it, he and the other poor male bringing up the rear.
Meat for the wolf if she comes after us!
"C'mon, she's coming-!"
"You don't know that, Raz, and sweet Myri, keep your bloody balls tied on!"
The humid night air slapped their exposed skin hard, sweat from fear the only thing to cool them. Razkar's head craned left and right but no shadows lurked to see them leave, and soon all four were in the alley-
-joined by a fifth.
"Where'd they go, male?"
He'd never mistake that growl. Herliz was mere steps behind them, and he had to admire the glorious stones of the male in the kitchen that answered, voice a symphony of cherubic innocence.
"Whom, mistress?"
"Don't fuck me around!"
Razkar's frightened face whirled to his fellows, and he whispered one word: "Run!"
So they did, and he did, and buggered if he was waiting for them to keep up. Herliz would probably hear the sandals slapping on the sand and stone but running was never her strong suit, so as long as they got a few streets headstart, they'd be able to get back over that damn wall without her being the wiser.
That was the theory, anyway. And at least they had Nyaela running with them, too.
"Hurry!"
"Oh, right..."
The four Myrians didn't need to be told twice as they moved as fast as you can when trying not to appear as if you're moving fast. Razkar knew it was only a matter of time before Herliz noticed, however, and he heard her voice growl out from across the bar as Nyaela gave them one final shove out into the kitchen-
"They look bloody familiar..."
Shyke!
The couple of males preparing food - brothers, if Razkar had to guess; the features were far too similar, and they even seemed to smile and laugh simultaneously - pointed them to the door with their eyes, and Razkar was almost pushing Woxma and Erama through it, he and the other poor male bringing up the rear.
Meat for the wolf if she comes after us!
"C'mon, she's coming-!"
"You don't know that, Raz, and sweet Myri, keep your bloody balls tied on!"
The humid night air slapped their exposed skin hard, sweat from fear the only thing to cool them. Razkar's head craned left and right but no shadows lurked to see them leave, and soon all four were in the alley-
-joined by a fifth.
"Where'd they go, male?"
He'd never mistake that growl. Herliz was mere steps behind them, and he had to admire the glorious stones of the male in the kitchen that answered, voice a symphony of cherubic innocence.
"Whom, mistress?"
"Don't fuck me around!"
Razkar's frightened face whirled to his fellows, and he whispered one word: "Run!"
So they did, and he did, and buggered if he was waiting for them to keep up. Herliz would probably hear the sandals slapping on the sand and stone but running was never her strong suit, so as long as they got a few streets headstart, they'd be able to get back over that damn wall without her being the wiser.
That was the theory, anyway. And at least they had Nyaela running with them, too.