Her breath came in short ragged gasps as she ran down the trail, her longbow held firmly in her right hand. Behind her, the baying of hounds was getting
louder, and the sharp staccato of hoof beats was becoming more distinct. She dodged around one of the few trees growing in random groves in the valley, and
pounded up a rise.
"Damnit!" Syrin shrieked to no one in particular. " Damn those slayers!"
By coming to the valley here, far away from her home colony, she had hoped to be able to escape the dragon hunters that had pursued her family mercilessly. Well, she had gotten away fairly easily, but she'd also drawn the hunters away from the colony. Which wasn't so bad, except that now she was in a situation she wasn't exactly sure how to get out of.
Go figure. Her father always said if she was human, she'd be a ditzy blond. Guess he was right.
Syrin risked a glance over her shoulder, and was slightly relieved with what she found. No slayers in sight, yet. She might have time to shift enough to get airborne. Just as she turned back to face front, Syrin suddenly yelped in suprise as a wire noose closed around her ankle and yanked her up into the air, clipping her chin painfully on the ground. Her bow clattered to the ground, along with all her arrows, and whereas her shortsword stayed locked in its scabbard, it flipped over and jabbed her in the ribs. Syrin was swung back into the trunk of the tree the trap was set in before her momentum ceased, and she hung still, two feet above the ground, fuming.
"Flip!! Not again!! NO!!" Syrin wiggled and squirmed, drawing her sword and slashing at the wire around her ankle. Sparks flew, but the trap held tight.
Suddenly, the slayers surrounded her, their horses squealing in protest, and the hounds baying and leaping at Syrin. She swung her sword in a wide arc around her, snarling like a beast, and nicked a couple of the dogs. They ran yelping, hiding behind the horses. The slayers all wore smug smirks on their faces, which Syrin would just love to wring off their faces. Laughing in triumph, one called out, "Looks like your ours now, dragon."
"Don't you touch me, filth!" Syrin hollered, still swinging her sword, upside down.
After a few minutes of congratulating each other, one slayer spoke up. "Hey boss, how are we gonna get her to turn back to a dragon?"
Syrin snarled in defiance, her sword held out in front of her. She was ready to kill them all... hanging upside down... caught in a tree. Yea, she was in trouble.
"Damnit!" Syrin shrieked to no one in particular. " Damn those slayers!"
By coming to the valley here, far away from her home colony, she had hoped to be able to escape the dragon hunters that had pursued her family mercilessly. Well, she had gotten away fairly easily, but she'd also drawn the hunters away from the colony. Which wasn't so bad, except that now she was in a situation she wasn't exactly sure how to get out of.
Go figure. Her father always said if she was human, she'd be a ditzy blond. Guess he was right.
Syrin risked a glance over her shoulder, and was slightly relieved with what she found. No slayers in sight, yet. She might have time to shift enough to get airborne. Just as she turned back to face front, Syrin suddenly yelped in suprise as a wire noose closed around her ankle and yanked her up into the air, clipping her chin painfully on the ground. Her bow clattered to the ground, along with all her arrows, and whereas her shortsword stayed locked in its scabbard, it flipped over and jabbed her in the ribs. Syrin was swung back into the trunk of the tree the trap was set in before her momentum ceased, and she hung still, two feet above the ground, fuming.
"Flip!! Not again!! NO!!" Syrin wiggled and squirmed, drawing her sword and slashing at the wire around her ankle. Sparks flew, but the trap held tight.
Suddenly, the slayers surrounded her, their horses squealing in protest, and the hounds baying and leaping at Syrin. She swung her sword in a wide arc around her, snarling like a beast, and nicked a couple of the dogs. They ran yelping, hiding behind the horses. The slayers all wore smug smirks on their faces, which Syrin would just love to wring off their faces. Laughing in triumph, one called out, "Looks like your ours now, dragon."
"Don't you touch me, filth!" Syrin hollered, still swinging her sword, upside down.
After a few minutes of congratulating each other, one slayer spoke up. "Hey boss, how are we gonna get her to turn back to a dragon?"
Syrin snarled in defiance, her sword held out in front of her. She was ready to kill them all... hanging upside down... caught in a tree. Yea, she was in trouble.
