๐ค๐ท๐ฏ๐ธ๐ป๐ฝ๐พ๐ท๐ช๐ฝ๐ฎ ๐ข๐ธ๐พ๐ต:
Her breathing grew ragged and audible, soon overtaking the rustle of leaves covering the forest floor. Her canter slowed and became uncharacteristically clumsy for one of her species, as her drive for escape crumbled into exhaustion and throbbing pain. She toppled against a massive tree, the burn of rough bark scraping her skin didnโt faze her on her slide to the ground.
Eden closed her eyes, her claws sank deeper and deeper into the bark with each sharp echo erupting from her calf. With a hiss, she glared down at the gaping wound. She had stumbled upon a couple of startled hunters, and in a bout of confusion and panic, they shot at her in hopes to frighten her off. It had certainly done the trick, as the bullet tunneled into bristly fur rather than her protective scales. If only it had hit them and bounced off instead.
Her ears flickered, relieved that the menโs tromps and yells could no longer be heard in the cool, misty air. A curse could be heard as she pressed her hand over the bubbling hole, hoping to stop any more of the blood flow.
Life on her own has been relatively peaceful. Sure she hasnโt seen another soul in a couple years, but she figures thatโs for the best. It prevents the risk of her succumbing to the urges to feed that she;d finally driven away-- for the most part, at least. However, when she hears a gun go off, she becomes wary. Hunters donโt usually come into her area of the forest. Perhaps the game has started moving in her direction?
Something in her gut tells 21 thatโs not the case. So instead she carefully exits her little home and focuses on searching for any ki signatures. She has only recently gotten the hang of said skill, and figures it would save her the time of searching the forest the old-fashioned way. Fortunately she lucks out and finds an unusual ki signature. Itโs faint and wavering, and too high to be a mere human hunter, but itโs something. So she hurries in its direction and hopes itโs not an enemy.
The sight sheโs met with stops her in her tracks for a moment. Sheโs never seen a creature like this one and isnโt sure what to make of it. Then again, she herself doesnโt fit in with the norm. So she pushes those thoughts aside and carefully kneels in front of the woman.
โUm, miss, are you okay?โ she asks, and mentally berates herself for asking such a silly question. Of course she isnโt alright; the poor thing is clearly injured. So 21 carefully tries to move the other womanโs hand away from the wound, her own right hand glowing faintly with the healing magic of a majin. โTry to hold still, miss. I think I can help you.โ
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