Tamara Sendai in Elband - Morning

Tamara resisted the urge to check for scorch marks on her skin as she walked out of the Morning Room. Queen Alisande Tarmalene, the Grace of Light, certainly had a tongue on her and a temper to boot. She cursed her friend, the Mahdi Mother Marna Domios, for volunteering Tamara for this job.

It had been simple enough: deliver the sealed letter and conduct quiet inquiries into the royal bloodline. But the first part had proved so difficult that she was left wondering if the second part could be attempted at all.

The Queen had received her warmly enough, to be fair. White Island and Menaria have always been allies and the Sendai are respected. Queen Alisande had honoured her by meeting in the Morning Room, reserved for close friends and relatives. And she had also met her without her retainers or advisors.

But when the Queen had read the letter, she flew into a passionate rage that would quiver even a Turmen. Tamara did not know but suspected as to the contents of the letter, written by the Mahdi. It certainly had something to do with the peasant rebellion in Balenia and the inevitable civil unrest there. Did the Mahdi 'advise' the Queen as to the proper course of action? That would certainly be reason enough for her anger. Friends or not, no one ordered the Queen of Menaria about.

She had threatened to cut ties with White Island; to stop the princess from attending her training. But Tamara, thanks to her silver tongue, prevailed. For years, Tamara had negotiated peace between the warring Three Kingdoms and it had given her the ability to soothe tempers and present her arguments with reason and logic. It would be disastrous to not use this opportunity to have a truly powerful monarch on the throne of Menaria. A Tarmalene who is also a Sendai would make Menaria much more powerful than what she was.

In the end, the Queen had relented and cooled down. She even served tea for Tamara and talked proudly about her daughter, Esmee. Tamara hadn't met the girl yet, but the Mahdi had, when the princess had been a mere child. The Mahdi had told Tamara the potential in the child, and Tamara was quite thrilled to finally have a chance to meet her.

She walked across the carpeted corridors of the palace, admiring the artifacts from around the world: jade figurines from the Gor desert, ancient armours and weapons, relics of Emperor Altalan. The opulence in the palace was at once understated and impressive. Walking here, one could feel the powers of the world converging under this roof.

She had some trouble finding the right quarters and had to stop several liveried maids for directions. Finally, she reached the North Wing of the palace where the Queen and her daughter have their residence. She approached the pair of guards near the entrance.

"Guardsman. I am Tamara Sendai of the White Island and I would like to meet the Princess Esmee if it pleases her," she said. The men immediately inclined their heads in a respectful bow and one of them departed to seek the princess's permission. Tamara waited by the entrance, watching a pair of swans swim lazily in the fish pond.

Markous Lodious in a Secluded Cabin in the Black Hills- Crack of Dawn

“I’m telling you that it was nothing.” A young man shouted angrily as he raised a large axe upwards, “It was a trick of the wind, nothing more.” He finished, his gaze never leaving the log in front of him as he brought the axe down and cleft in half.

“Markous, I’m telling you, that wasn’t nothing.” Another man said, this one noticeably older, wrinkles adorned his face. It was clear by the crow’s feet and laugh lines on is his have that he had spent a lot of his youth happy, but the current cold glare that the man had told nothing of those days. “That was the sp-“

“Shut up!” The young man roared as he spun around to face the elder man, the axe in his hand rising in his anger. “Father, I’m telling you. That was nothing.” He ground out, his face turning red. “It was nothing.”

“If that what you want to tell yourself, then fine.” His father spoke, his voice becoming even colder. “Though, if the people find that you have the sp-“

“Don’t say it!”

“The spark!” His father continued his voice rising to overpower Markous’, “Then I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”

“When have you ever protected me?” Markous asked his voice cynical as he gave his father a piteous glance. “You weren’t there when they bu-“

“Markous that is enough!” His father roared, as he took a step forwards his hand flashing forward to deliver a vicious backhand to Markous’ head. It sent him reeling and he took a step backward both from the pain, and the sheer shock at being struck by his father. “You don’t ever mention that to me, you don’t try and use that to get out of argument.”

“Then when do I mention it!? When do I talk about it!? When those filthy Gor come back to kill us again?” Markous’ own voice began to rise as he too roared at his father. “Time and time again, you refuse to even think about hunting them down, what kind of man are you!? To let the death of your we-“

Another backhand from his father sent Markous tumbling to the ground. His face was sore and Markous was dimly aware that he would no doubt be sporting a bruise on his face the next day. The axe that was in his hands flew wildly before coming to a halt in a nearby tree.

“I said not to mention it again.” His father growled cold fury in his voice. “Go and clear your head, we’ll talk about how we’re going to clean the taint of the spark from you when you get back.”

With that, Markous’ father turned on his heel before stalking off back towards their cabin. Markous sat there in silence, before jumping up; he let out a feral scream of rage and ripped the axe from the tree. Raising it he swung it down towards the ground. The second it made contact a huge tremor rippled through the ground and a tear formed where the axe head was embedded in the ground.

“This.” Markous ground out through gritted teeth, “This is why my life is becoming what it is. This taint.” His eyes darted upwards towards the sky, “You couldn’t just take my mother away from me!? You had to taint me as well!” He shouted upwards.

His breathing rapid, Markous closed his eyes before crumpling to the ground. He raised his axe once more, before letting it drop pathetically to the ground.
“There’s a lake nearby, just go get some water and calm down. The taint won’t be on me forever, there are rumors that if properly dealt with one can be purified.”

Markous consoled himself, as he took slow deep breaths. Shaking his head once, he stood up and headed in the opposite direction from his home, axe in hand, towards the lake.

Tashi al Dorje in Parna - Dawn

Too soon... The young man thought, rolling onto his back at the hoarse, bellowing call of the camp crier. I feel like my head just hit the bedroll... There's no way it's morning already...

"Tashi, get your armor together!" Came the whispered urging of one of his tent-mates, a thin, dark-skinned lad who had come to the division not three days prior. Tashi struggled again to remember his name for a moment and recalled that it was Ferran.

Then the realization of Ferran's words finally settled into his sleep-clouded mind.

"We're leaving?" Tashi asked, his fatigue suddenly forgotten as he sat upright and threw his blanket away from his body.

"As soon as the division is mustered, we are. It would seem that we are to discourage some peasant rebellion."

As quickly as he had become excited, Tashi's mood fell. He sighed in exasperation and kicked his bedroll hotly, before bending to start the process of packing for travel.

"I was not trained to quell rebellious peasants, Ferran."

"And yet, it is what we shall do, Tashi. Ours is not to question the merits of our orders. Only to follow them."

Seeing no legitimate argument against his fellow soldier, or at least none that would carry any weight should he bother to voice it, Tashi settled for brooding in silence.

---

An hour later, he was mustered with the rest of the Sixth Division. A glorious sight, a legion of men lined up in columns and rows, the rising sun shining off of polished metal armor plates. Most men wore full plate, and sat atop war horses. Others, like Tashi, wore only half-plate armor, desiring a bit more maneuverability in combat. Still others were clad only in lamellar, chain, or leather armor. Many of the division went unarmored entirely, most of them serving as archers and camp workers.

They were different in many ways, save one. The desire to serve, and the drive to protect their country. While some may have joined for the benefits of food, lodging and pay, others simply wanted nothing more than to fight for their country. Tashi belonged to this group, as did his father before him.

After a few minutes of waiting, the Division was greeted by Lord Commander Kalsang, a tall, powerfully built knight who wore gold-trimmed armor, and a black cape that carried the sigil of the king. He sat atop a mighty warhorse, similarly armored, and carried a brilliantly shining lance.

"Sixth Division!" He roared, his voice carrying throughout the whole of the field they had assembled in.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" Came the unified, bellowing reply. It sent shivers down Tashi's spine, to be amongst the force of Balenia as they rallied to the call of their commander.

"Today we ride for Marne! I'm sure you have all heard the rumors. Peasants stir in Marne, and aim to begin a rebellion against the kingdom! We shall not allow this!" Kalsang raised the point of his lance as he drove his warhorse down the line of his soldiers, meeting many of their eyes as he passed.

Tashi had been on the receiving end of his gaze some years ago. He did not care for it then, for it preceded the knowledge of his fathers death. Now, however, it brought a certain motivation that he had been lacking that morning.

"We ride to keep the order of Balenia!" Kalsang cried.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" The division replied.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Move out!"

With a singular purpose, the entirety of the Sixth Legion turned about, towards the road to Marne, and marched. The unity of their movements was awesome to behold, as hundreds of hoof beats and footfalls created an audible thunder from the earth.

Tashi felt pity for whoever decided to stand against them. For surely, they would be hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched.

---

"Tashi!"

The young soldier was stirred for the second time that day by someone calling his name. He had just settled in for a nap in his saddle, it seemed, when he felt a hand slap against his shoulder.

Tashi shook his head and turned to see Jeroen riding alongside him. Grinning, he held out a closed fist, which was met by Jeroen's own.

"Come to gloat?" He asked, still feeling the sting of numerous blows dealt to him by the older man.

"On the contrary. I'm here to ask after you again, on behalf of an old friend." Jeroen said, passing a rolled up piece of paper to Tashi, who sighed as he accepted it.

It was not the first time he had heard from the Sendai, and as Jeroen was demonstrating, it was unlikely to be the last. In his youth, he had been told that he possessed something called a spark. At first, he took it as a typical compliment, akin to being told he had potential.

Eventually, however, the true meaning became clearer. Tashi did not like the idea of abandoning his career, but he wasn't able to deny all of the merits of the arguments that had been presented to him.

"To what end?" Tashi finally said, opening the note and reading it over. "What do you gain from helping the Sendai?"

Jeroen chuckled, shaking his head and looking to the sky.

"I gain nothing, at present. However, that does not blind me to what I - what we all stand to gain in the future, should you accept their offer."

"And what of my wishes?" Tashi said, a bit of irritation in his tone. "Does no one consider that I may not want to live in seclusion for an indeterminate amount of time? That I may not want to abandon my country for some dusty old mystic order?"

"Tashi, no one ever said that you had to join the group. However, your objections, to me, beg the question... Why have you not told them 'no,' if you truly have no desire to become Sendai?"

Tashi opened his mouth to speak, only to find it empty of words. Jeroen's knowing smile did not serve to calm the young man.

"I think you owe it to yourself to try it. And if you truly wish to remain, another mundane soldier in an army of men, then you owe it to the Sendai to give them a real answer." The old man said, settling into his saddle for comfort.

Tashi looked down at his hands, lost in thought, and rode on in silence.

Caz dan Ro. Hiding outside a secluded cabin in the Black Hills- Crack of Dawn

Hungry, so hungry.
Her vision was blurry and she felt exhausted despite the fact that she’d barely moved in hours. For three days she hadn’t been able to find food. No humans to steal from and no familiar plants that could be eaten. She didn’t dare to take the risk of eating something poisonous. She had stumbled across the small house almost by mistake, walking along the vegetation had suddenly disappeared and she’d taken a few steps out into the open before she’d noticed it. She hid again and thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t been detected. Two men were outside the cabin, each of them if not both could’ve been facing her direction, but she was lucky.
She was planning on leaving when a familiar sound reached her ears, the clucking of a chicken.
When Gors entered the outlands to plunder chicken were amongst the animals that were often taken alive, they were small enough to carry and easy to manage. in the desert they didn’t survive for long, but enough to break the monotony of the typical Gor diet.

She could see around a dozen of the feathery creatures roaming around, out in the open, unprotected… But once she went after them they’d start a ruckus and the two men would be on her in seconds. Of course she could handle two mere men, and Gurgans were barely that… but she would prefer to have put some serious distance between herself and the cabin before they found out she’d been there. She couldn’t just leave either, for three days she’d been searching for food, she wasn’t about to turn down the only meat she’d seen in a week because of the risk of being discovered.
One of the men, the younger one, was chopping wood. The older one was talking and ‘supervising’. Caz wondered if she could use the noise from his chopping to go in, get a hen and leave again without the men hearing anything. She doubted it, but was ready to try anything when one of the men raised his voice.
“I’m telling you that it was nothing.” The mans voice was loud enough for even Caz to hear clearly what he said. They started to argue, shouting at each other instead of talking. caz dan Ro was not a fool and she took the chance she’d been given. Swift as a mongoose she darted across the open area and hid just behind the house itself. There she stopped to catch her breath and listen.
“The spark!” The older man cried, clearly too invested in the argument to notice anything around himself. She was relieved, but knew that their fight wouldn’t end forever. The chickens had run away, but not too far. Caz selected a big one and swung her staff around with the precision of a Gor warrior. She caught the animal right across the head and as the rest of them scattered her hen was unconscious on the ground. She grabbed in quickly and returned to the corner of the wall.

“Time and time again, you refuse to even think about hunting them down, what kind of man are you!? To let the death of your we-“
A crash followed and Caz risked a peek. The older man had struck the younger hard and they were both on the ground. It wasn’t optimal, but the fight was over and she couldn’t wait any longer. As the old man leaned over the young Caz ran as silently as she could across the open space into the safety of the forest. She didn’t stop to peek behind her, she kept running as far as she could manage. There was a small lake nearby, with water clean enough to drink. She’d make a fire, cook the bird and eat until she could not stomach another bite. Then she’d drink from the lake and bathe and wash her clothes. She made plans to return the next day and capture another one. Then she’d better leave for good, at least she’d leave with a full belly and more food in her hand.

The lake came into view, such an abundance of water just sitting there and the Gurgans built their house all the way over there. Idiots.
She grabbed her small knife and slit the throat of the animal, a few long straws of grass used as string held the legs together and she hung the bird from a low branch to drain it of blood. it’d take a while to get a fire going, so she started immediately. All she needed was two pieces of wood and some patience, the fire would come, then the food. With her mouth salivating she started to rub the two pieces of wood against each other.

Esmee Tarmalene in Elband - Early Morning

Nearly every waking hour of the past week had been filled with festivities. There had been feasts and balls, tournaments of wit and skill, plays, even an entrancing show of magic from a wandering group of Sendai performers. All of this, purely for the sake of giving the nation's princess a proper send off. Truth be told, Esmee found it all to be quite overwhelming. She enjoyed all of the revelries as much as the next girl, but lately more than ever, her mother had been strict on her regarding the maintenance of a proper, queenly demeanor. This was the last time that most at court would see her for several years. She needed to leave them with the image of her as a calm, clearheaded young lady, one who could be expected to shoulder the burden of ruling the moment she returned, if need be. Anything less left the potential for civil unrest.

Esmee was well aware of this, but it didn't stop her from regretting her inability to truly just let loose and enjoy herself. Her last days at court before she could fully be considered an adult should have been just the time for that, in her opinion. Unfortunately, as in all aspects of her life, she simply did not have the final say. When the last feast had ended the night before she was expected to leave, she was almost grateful to be able to retire to the North Wing. That night several of her noble tutors had approached her privately, to give her lists of books that she could find in the White Island libraries that would keep her caught up in her non-magic related studies, to wish her luck, and some even to express their fondness for the young woman. Of the six of them, most had been teaching her since she was a small child. It was almost as difficult to say goodbye to them as to the court life itself.

In contrast to the warm farewells from her tutors, breakfast with her mother was simply more of the same. As long as they were in the same residence, Alisande made it a point to take breakfast with her daughter in their private quarters. Especially as Esmee grew older, these breakfasts became less about socializing and sharing time together, and more about going over their schedules for the day and the queen giving small lessons and reminders to her heir. Today was no different. The only acknowledgement granted to Esmee's leaving was its small mention as they went over the events for the day. After that, the two ate in silence. When some time had passed, Alisande excused herself with the explanation that she had a meeting in the Morning Room. It went without saying that it was with the newly arrived Sendai, whose presence in the capital had been announced as soon as she passed through its outer gates.

Upon returning to her own quarters, Esmee was greeted by her nursemaid, Maude. She was the eldest of the girl's some fifteen personal servants, and generally a very stern woman. Today, though, she was almost abnormally sweet to to her mistress. Judging by the red puffiness of the skin around her eyes, Esmee suspected that she'd been crying.

"Maude... Are you alright?" Esmee questioned as the older woman, along with two younger maidservants, helped her into the kirtle she'd be traveling in. It was of a light, cream colored silk, contrasting well against her dark skin. The silk was reasonably soft, but stronger and more resistant to tears than her court gowns. Maude, ever the prideful woman despite, or perhaps because of, a life spent caring for royal children, bristled.

"I am just fine, your Highness," She nearly snapped, the title added almost as an afterthought. Esmee smiled, having full well expected such a response. Of course Maude would never share any personal feelings. In spite of the teachings of her mother and tutors, Esmee couldn't help doing so herself.

"Well, you should know that I am going to miss you terribly. Thank you, for everything," She said, in an odd sort of defiance towards her lessons that she very rarely showed. Maude turned away, and for a moment both maidservants watched her instead of helping the princess into her surcoat; a very sturdy thing that buttoned up over the bodice, and parted to show the skirt of the kirtle beneath it. It was a darker tan, though still lighter than Esmee's own skin.

"I do not need thanks for doing my job. Besides, you will have many more things to worry about than missing an old woman like me, Highness. Like your studies. You must be vigilante if you wish to grow up to protect our country as your mother and her mother before her have." Some might consider the old woman's speech just a touch too informal, but she'd been with the royal family far longer than most people had been alive. This time, if nothing else, allowed her more freedom of speech than most servants.

"Yes," Esmee said with a nod, lips suddenly pursing into a tight-lipped frown. That lapse from serious thoughts was, like always, rather short lived. She silently contemplated the trials before her as the woman went about fixing her hair. Instead of her usual style of intricate braids piled atop her head, the whole of her hair would be pulled back into one long braid, falling past her waist. A silver belt and a dark blue travelling cloak, with a white gold clasp in the shape of a rose, would complete her outfit, but these would not be added until it was closer to the time to leave. Similarly, she still got to wear her lovely lace slippers, instead of the rather boring, practical boots she'd be wearing for the trip.

Shortly after they were done dressing her, the servants took their leave. Esmee planned to send for Marie. Despite the wishes of both girls, she would not be allowed in Esmee's entourage; only two maidservants and a small handful of elite guardsmen would be accompanying her. This in mind, she wanted to take the opportunity to say goodbye in private to her closest friend. Before she could do so, though, there was a knocking at her door. She bid them enter, and in came a guard wearing the familiar blue and silver Tarmalene coat-of-arms. He bowed, holding his fist against his heart in the salute reserved for superiors in the military, the noble the soldier was sworn to if he was not in direct service of the royal family, and the royals themselves. "Your Highness, Tamara Sendai of the White Island is at the entrance to the North Wing, and she seeks your highness's permission for a meeting."

Esmee nodded, and considered her options. She could not turn away the woman, not that she'd have any desire to do so; this was a woman she'd be spending a lot of time with during her travels, after all. So, she could either take the woman in the sitting room of her private quarters, or somewhere more public. "You may escort her to her to our private gardens," Esmee instructed, "I shall meet her there at my earliest possible convenience. That will be all," She dismissed him. Of course, she'd actually be heading over to the deigned meeting place right away, but it was important, as royalty, to never make it seem as though she was waiting on someone of lower rank than she. So she took the long route to the northern edge of their quarters. The royal garden was surrounded by high sandstone walls, and filled with flora from around the world. Several rivers ran through it, under sandstone bridges. There were statues of the original Sendai, past Mendarian kings and queens, and one cast in pure gold of Emperor Altalan himself. The garden was a wonder, even in a castle filled with wonders.

Her arrival was preceded by a single guard, who announced her. Upon entering the garden she found the Sendai, waiting. This woman was shorter than Esmee herself, but then, so were most. Despite her young age, she was taller than most grown women. She carried the white staff of a Sendai, similar to that of Fendrel's. Her robes, however, were much lighter than his. Perhaps so that she may remain inconspicuous? No matter. Esmee approached the woman with a regal stature, and a carefully practiced expression hiding her youthful curiosity. "You are Tamara Sendai, of the White Island?" She asked.

Markous Lodious in a Small Forest near the Black Hills- Dawn

It was a short walk through the forest to reach the lake that Markous and his father had been getting fresh water from all these years. Before his Mother’s death the path was tangled, rough and unclear.

“It’s a little bit like having an adventure every time you need water, isn’t it?” His mother would remark as they jumped over tree roots, or ducked under a low hanging branch, “It’s important to keep finding those little adventures even when you’ve settled down.”

She would smile after saying that, a huge big smile that Markous loved to see. It filled him with warmth and joy. It made him feel safe.

Not the path was clear, neither a single branch nor plant lay on it. Markous and his father spent hours upon hours clearing and maintaining the path.

“If we could have just gotten water sooner, it would have never happened.” Markous’ Father spoke as he swung at another branch. “She wouldn’t be-“ That would be when his father would break into tears, that would be when Markous would ignore his father, that would be when Markous would keep cutting the braches, keep clearing the path.

“My father is weakling.” Markous said now, as he walked along the path, his steps heavy but his pace slow. “He is a coward and a fool. Though, he does make some sense. This taint must be cleaned.”

Speaking in a low tone to himself Markous kept his eyes focused on the ground as he slowly began to approach the clearing.

“I need to head to the capital. I’m sure that someone there can help me.” Markous paused as he raised his hand, his gaze shifting towards it. Calloused and dirty, he had a hand of peasant, even if he were to head to the capital, what help could he expect? It’d be simpler to execute him than try and cleanse him. His hand formed a fist and began to shake slightly.

“No. I will conquer this myself. I will not turn myself to the gallows before I get my revenge.”

Swallowing a gulp of air, Markous shook his head twice before continuing his stride; he halted however right before the clearing where he knew the lake lay. The ever subtle noise two sticks being rubbed together could be heard in the silence of the forest. Markous took a step forward and put his head around a tree. He could just make out a figure sitting near the lake.

“A Gor!?” Markous shouted in his head, the axe in his hand raising as he started to dash forward, “Wait. No. That’s not possible. Not this deep into Gurg land, and never alone.” He stopped himself, and lowered his axe. “What are they doing here?”

Taking another step forward, Markous entered the clearing. “Who are you and wha-“ He started to ask, before taking note of the chicken that he hadn’t seen, lying next to the figure. “Hey! That’s one of my chickens! Thief!”

Tamara Sendai in Elband - Morning

Tamara had supped with the high and mighty. In her many assignments, she had had to talk down to queens and kings without showing her fear. The years negotiating with the rulers of the land had given her an ability to mask her true feelings when she spoke.

All those years of experience failed her that moment as she stood face to face with the daughter-heir of Menaria.

Even before she laid her eyes on the girl, even before she heard her footsteps behind her, she had sensed her approaching. Sendai can sense when others of the cloth are nearby. The Spark can always be sensed by one who has it. Tamara knew the girl wouldn't be able to sense it clearly. The awareness came with practice. It came with using the Spark regularly. But Tamara could feel her power. It pulsed like a star in that garden. The Mother was not flapping with her tongue when she talked about the girl's potential. Tamara felt her tongue go dry. When this one was trained properly, she would eclipse them all.

Tamara inclined her head and bent her knees slightly in a less-than-formal curtsy. Once the girl was in the White Island, she would have to defer to Tamara. But here, she was still the princess and Tamara was just another diplomat. Even so, Sendai aren't ordinary people.

"Grace favor you, princess," she said, finally looking at her face. It was like looking at Queen Tarmalene through a frosted glass made of time. That same pointed nose, that same golden hair that caught the light and glimmered, that same haughty stare that demanded obedience. She was still a child though, and she was trying to mimic her mother, Tamara saw. This one would grow into a great ruler.

"I am Tamara Roihan of the Vyanandir," she said, not wanting to hide either her allegiance in the White Island, or her Balenian name. vyanandir, the House of the Wind, was her chosen house in the White Island. And she secretly hoped the girl would choose her House. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, princess. The Mother has been talking about you and we are all looking forward to seeing you in the Island."

Tamara smiled in a sisterly way. She did not want to be too formal here, and she had a feeling the girl would respond better without the rituals and trappings of royalty. The young always did.

"Apart from getting a chance to see you, I was also hoping I could talk to you. I am sure you have a lot of questions about the White Island, and I confess I have a few of my own about you."

Caz dan Ro. By a lake near the Black Hills- Dawn

“Who are you and wha-“

Her concentration was suddenly broken and her eyes quickly sought the source of the strange voice. She'd thought herself safe in the forest, hidden by all the trees and the bushes and the undergrowth. She'd been wrong. Before her stood a young man of Gurgan blood, he held an axe and was coming her way. Instinctively her hand sought and found her staff, the only weapon she'd been able to wield since her exile. She grabbed it tightly and jumped up to a standing position.
With both hands on her staff, one by the hip, the other in front of her, she was ready to take on her attacker. He was armed, and with a deadlier weapon. She wouldn't have to hold back.

“Hey! That’s one of my chickens! Thief!”
He yelled that last part, loud enough to wake the dead. He eyes widened with fear. She would be able to take on the boy, no problem, but she didn't know if there were other settlements nearby. For all she knew there could be a busy town on the other side of the bushes. She'd have to make it short. As the aggressor she had the advantage of range and wanted to use it. Two quick steps meant the he was within her reach, but he would have to move closer to hit with his shorter weapon. With her right hand she pushed the staff forward while she used her left to steer the staff. With a 'clonk' she made contact with the axe head. The full weight of her body was behind the blow and sent the weapon flying. Next she twisted her hips and spun around, slamming the wooden pole into the boy's thigh. he'd be alright, a few hours later he shouldn't even feel that much pain anymore. Quickly she scooped up the dead chicken and hes small backpack and ran. The blow to the leg should slow the boy down enough to make sure she'd get away.

The forest was not an ideal place to bring a long weapon like a spear or a staff. The trees grew in irregular patterns, and while they were the one thing that made hiding in the forest easy, they also made running away a big pain in the arse. Yet she ran. She ran as fast as she dared, the last thing she wanted was to suddenly get caught with her body on one side of a tree and her weapon on the other. If the boy was chasing her (she didn't dare to look back and check) then he'd surely bring the axe.

Suddenly a big bush appeared and without thinking further she jumped through it. Her leg got snagged in a branch and her flight got cut short. She fell down and landed hard on her shoulder. Her speed kept her going and she quickly realized that she was going down hill. If she'd continued to jump then her handing could've broken her foot or even worse.
She rolled around quickly, keeping her staff parallel to her body and her belongings tight to her chest. Something hard hit her legs, probably a rock or a tree, she couldn't tell the difference. Then she stopped.
The ground was flat and soft. Leaves from many years had gathered there and created a nice but cold resting place. Her legs aced, she didn't know if she could stand or walk. She didn't know if she was still being pursued.
The fall had taken most of her stamina away and she was breathing heavily to regain it. She felt naked and exposed, but moving would probably only make it worse. She decided to stay still and rest for just a little while, but she listened very carefully for footsteps, her life might still be in danger.