[She can't keep up with the thing that might not even be Estinien anymore.
Hayame's blood-stained hooves stumble on the rubble of a partially collapsed structure, struggling to stay steady as she looks to the sky instead of her path. One of her quivers is near empty, the other half depleted. Her bowstring is frayed. The blood on her hooves might not be hers, but the crimson staining her dun coat along razor thin slashes along her flank and rump in between gaps and breaks in her armor is hers, the red welling up in the piercing wound in her hip is hers. The bruised ribs, the limp, all of it--
All of it is proof of what she has done to try and keep the Kenoma from attacking the entity that had once been (hopefully, hopefully still was) someone who had said they trusted her. But she'd given her word. She would... She had sworn that he would have her bow, and if she cannot follow, then-
The trail of blood behind her is thicker now. This time, when Hayame trips... she doesn't catch herself, and the half ton centaur hits the ground, heavy and ungainly with the loss of her accumulated injuries. She tries to rise... and fails, sweat lathered on her flanks and both sets of lungs heaving.
But her eyes still follow, even if her body can not.]
FOR DOROTHEA ↣ A HEALING TOUCH ↣ 直してくれ
Hayame's blood-stained hooves stumble on the rubble of a partially collapsed structure, struggling to stay steady as she looks to the sky instead of her path. One of her quivers is near empty, the other half depleted. Her bowstring is frayed. The blood on her hooves might not be hers, but the crimson staining her dun coat along razor thin slashes along her flank and rump in between gaps and breaks in her armor is hers, the red welling up in the piercing wound in her hip is hers. The bruised ribs, the limp, all of it--
All of it is proof of what she has done to try and keep the Kenoma from attacking the entity that had once been (hopefully, hopefully still was) someone who had said they trusted her. But she'd given her word. She would... She had sworn that he would have her bow, and if she cannot follow, then-
The trail of blood behind her is thicker now. This time, when Hayame trips... she doesn't catch herself, and the half ton centaur hits the ground, heavy and ungainly with the loss of her accumulated injuries. She tries to rise... and fails, sweat lathered on her flanks and both sets of lungs heaving.
But her eyes still follow, even if her body can not.]