hurting but not helpless

Ah, Flowerbirth. A time of renewal and growth. Of course, that growth was not always positive. In the woodlands many of the wildflowers had undergone a change so to speak, growing larger and meaner and sprouting teeth. What's more, they had developed the uncanny ability to scuttle about here and there. And for the creature who had unintentionally stumbled into the suddenly carnivorous garden of wild roses, it could prove fatal. Ashetta would hear the stamping of its golden hooves as it attempted to free itself from thorny vines, even as rosebuds with jagged fangs snapped and bit at its feet. It was a proud creature, the stallion she would come upon, dappled in colours of snow and shadow with curved, golden horns not unlike that of a ram. Still, as it tossed its head and snorted, trying to backtrack, the roses hissed and pressed ever closer. Random Event