Cocaine & Caviar

Sheets of rain fell hard and thunderous all over the dark soggy earth. Leaving a formidable staccato rhythm in its wake. Releasing its pent up rage and overflowing fury upon the earth and all its inhabitants. Drew dove like a recently launched rocket through the darkness and rain, her bare silken and bleeding feet dragged laboriously through the slippery flooded earth. Until her shoulder rocked from a sudden impact. Drew gasped out loud and stumbled, but never fell. Arrows. The Durrow pack had the best archers and currently both legendary archers and indomitable horsemen were after her life. The lightning lit the sky so furiously and cast an eerie silvery halo across the earth. “Cease her!” A chorus of angry howls filled the air. Then she tripped and fell, and like she would on a soapy floor, slid fast across the slippery earth and sipping arrows until her back rammed hard against one of the ancient oak trees the pack was surrounded by; and pain ricocheted across every nerve and fiber of her being, accompanied by a very loud groan. Arrows kept wheezing past her and another pierced her chest causing her blinding anguish. Yet she braced herself and rose to her feet in time to dodge the lethal blow of Vladimir, a bulky warrior of the Durrows. Most importantly, - “Oh no.” A very loud reverberating growl shook the very ground she stood on. - he was much stronger - She dodged a claw to the neck with a move that swirled her around so fast that she momentarily lost her balance. - and faster. The perfect opportunity for her to take in a viscous blow. She cried out when his claws ripped her midriff, rending skin and letting out a stream of warm thick blood. Enveloping her in a cocoon of violent pain. But she didn’t relent. She wasn’t called the Blue Death for simple name-calling. With hands she willed into blades, Drew tore at his windpipe and eliminated the most viscous assassin and warrior of the Durrow pack. They would mourn this one, she thought with a proverbial pat on her shoulder. Her pants were harsh, eyes squeezed tightly as she willed her body to heal itself, albeit slowly as she feared she had had to suffer a good enough dose of wolfsbane. Enough to slow down her speedy healing but not enough to kill her. It never was. Another arrow wheezed by and she pushed herself forward. She would make it to the border and across it, she promised herself determinedly, even if she had to leave a trail of missed arrows, bloodied dragged footprints and corpses as she did. No way was she staying here even for one more night. Duncan would never lay a finger upon her, unless he wanted to be one or two fingers short. The barrier she had erected as she had embarked on her escape plan vibrated with the sheer force of his command. She fortified it. Her waning strength renewing her determination and refortified barrier. His answering growl of rage filled the air, sending the other nocturnal animals fleeing for their very own dear lives. She as well. He was ruthless. They knew. She knew as well. She heard them before her olfactory senses picked them. Three. No, five. Five warriors in their wolf forms gaining on her. They must die.