Sounds of war, sounds of battle-hungry monsters, resonate throughout the entirety of her being through that single haunting song that came from the horn the Bokoblins possessed, thusly causing for fear to bloom. Their feet march against the soil in tune with the drum of battle as the pursue the spirit maiden. Try as she might in weaving her way through the trees as an attempt to get the demons off of her path, it was futile as they never lost sight of her. She was a fighter. Yet she was just a girl who lacked in weapons, and those who lacked weapons were doomed to fall prey to their enemies. Though occasionally using her harp as a form of defense to fend off any Bokoblin that got too close to her, there was not much she could do aside from pumping her legs to move faster. White-hot flames lick at her lungs, causing for them to become singed with an unbearable heat of exhaustion, blonde hair dances in an erratic manner around her form as divine white dress would sway more gracefully compared to her locks.
Her eyes that dance wildly around the surroundings spots something, there, in the distance, she sees a figure and deciding to throw caution to the winds she’d call out to them in hopes that perhaps, just perhaps, they might provide assistance of sorts to her.
