[h2]Tyaethe[/h2]

When the Hunt emerged, the constant static pressure came to an immediate stop; the waste mana that had been fuelling it was finally directed into strength and motion. Tyaethe had evidently adopted an approach of just crash into and [i]through[/i] the assembled Hunt, a headlong charge out of the ranks that was nonetheless rapid enough to close into the vanguard of the horsemen before any of the archers thought to get a bead on her. A minor clue for those behind was the odd hope across a seemingly unmarked patch of brush.

[b]"Rozenaaaaaaalt! Get over here, you faceless bastard!"[/b] the vampire laughed in Veltish, a jump taking her over a snapping… hound? onto one of the Knights' deerlike mounts for just a moment. Long enough for the figure's polearm to start swinging around. It never hit, a small hand arresting its owner's wrist and heaving the armoured figure from its own saddle – something not so easily done, with its weight instead pulling the mount over, instead. Which simply left Tyaethe free to spring forward from it again and onto the ground, weaving between or generally just brute-forcing her way into the Midnight Hunt.

[b]"Was it hard, finding a mount uglier than you?"[/b] 

Tyaethe's wondering question announced her arrival to the real target, sword finally being put to use to try and kneecap the whatever-the-hell it was, and bring Rozenalt down to [i]her[/i] level.