The mage wanted her, and she was going to let him have her.
STEP ONE: Run the opposite direction of Blair at full speed with two broken ribs.
STEP TWO: Be as subtle as a signal flare.
"This way, sir. Try to keep up."
Guinevere snapped every branch like a drunk elk, the mage chasing after her. She didn't see any others. Either they were flanking her or they were still attending to their dicks.
STEP THREE: Figure out the rest while running.
There was no rest. There was running and there was getting caught and the only thing between them was whatever her legs had left.
Two soldiers came out of the trees. She spun with her stolen blade and opened the first one's forearm before he could grab her.
"Fuck. She fights like a feral cat in a bag."
The one she'd cut caught her by the arms, blood from his forearm smearing across her suit. His grip was furious.
"Easy. Gods, she's still swinging."
