Maeve
Maeve's vision blurred as the air was knocked from her lungs at the impact. She struggled to get to her hands and knees, pain shooting up her leg as she flexed her ankle, blinking through the spots that obscured her vision as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Maeve shifted her weight to her left foot, getting herself upright as she focused on figuring out her bearings, taking in the cacophony of sounds around her. There was still the voice behind her, pleading with her to wait, but it didn't register as the voice of her dear friend. Otherwise she would have likely headed the warning, but that wasn't the only sound here.
A desperate mix of trills and grunts, high pitched and scared came from a tangle of brambles, a small black creature that Maeve couldn't fully make out struggling desperately in the grasp of the thorns that dug into it. That would have been one thing, but what truly had her heart racing was the tumbleweed that drew ever closer. She hadn't seen one in person, but she had read of them before. The way they snatch anything that gets too close, tangling it in its grasp and draining the life from whatever it managed to ensnare before adding the bones to the rest of its collection. This one was heading for the creature that had found itself trapped and an instinct told her to intervene as she felt that creature's fear as if it was her own.
She knew better than to get too close, but she didn't have anything that could possibly fight this thing off. Maeve looked around quickly, desperate for anything that she could use as a makeshift weapon, eyes finally landing on a fallen branch that seemed sturdy enough. She grabbed it, gripping the end of it with both hands as she limped forward as quickly as she could through the small stream, taking a swing at the tumbleweed to knock it off course.
A desperate mix of trills and grunts, high pitched and scared came from a tangle of brambles, a small black creature that Maeve couldn't fully make out struggling desperately in the grasp of the thorns that dug into it. That would have been one thing, but what truly had her heart racing was the tumbleweed that drew ever closer. She hadn't seen one in person, but she had read of them before. The way they snatch anything that gets too close, tangling it in its grasp and draining the life from whatever it managed to ensnare before adding the bones to the rest of its collection. This one was heading for the creature that had found itself trapped and an instinct told her to intervene as she felt that creature's fear as if it was her own.
She knew better than to get too close, but she didn't have anything that could possibly fight this thing off. Maeve looked around quickly, desperate for anything that she could use as a makeshift weapon, eyes finally landing on a fallen branch that seemed sturdy enough. She grabbed it, gripping the end of it with both hands as she limped forward as quickly as she could through the small stream, taking a swing at the tumbleweed to knock it off course.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
