TBOS: Round 1, Scene 5

Fight! Let it take over you! Don't stop, don't falter, just fight!

Desperately, the Guard struggled for her life, dancing up and down the battlefield with her opponent, the wolf. He was a fierce beast, steady and strong, so much more powerful than she. For her, it was all she could do to avoid him; never before had she dealt with such a monster. Yet who had she battled? The Guard could not recall a single skirmish she had been in, yet she fought as if it had been scripted within her. She was, after all, the Guard. Protecting others was what she did; fighting was in her nature. And yet it was not enough, this creature exceeded her in nearly every category: strength, speed, agility. This confrontation was hopeless at best.

The wolf ran at her, teeth bared, and leaped into the air, aiming to topple her over. She dived out of the way, not a moment to spare, and rolled in somersaults until she was upright once more. Taking advantage of her evasion, the Guard launched herself forward, charging after the giant creature as it skidded to a halt. She brought her elbow down on the back of its head, satisfied by the yelp which followed. In response, the wolf lashed out with its hind legs, claws slashing her shins deeply. Gasping in pain, the Guard stumbled backward into a tree.

I can't lose. Not yet. Not now.

Her eyes flicked over to check on Swiftsure who had hidden among the bushes. As comforting and kind as he had been earlier, the Guard realized he was absolutely useless in a fight. It wasn't his fear which impeded him from helping, for the Guard too was steeped in terror. Rather it was his lack of bravery, his inability to act in spite of his fear. Would she be able to defend herself and protect Swiftsure? It appeared unlikely.

Springing from the tree, the Guard swung her leg at the beast's head, but instead of coming into contact with its skull, the wolf caught her booted foot in his mouth. Instantly, he pulled her to the earth, wildly whipping his head left and right as he tried to tear her leg from her body. Her head slammed painfully on the forest floor, and both she and Swiftsure screamed in alarm. The Guard's free leg shot forward reactively, pelting the wolf in the jaw one, two, three times before he let go; however, he caught her by the foot again a split second later. The beast dragged her across the clearing, her head slamming into rocks and running over roots along the way. Like a rag doll, she was at his will. Dazed, pinpricks dotted her vision, her mind enveloped in a cloud of dizziness. Snapping his head upward, the wolf released her from its jaws and sent her sailing into the air. Slamming back-first into a nearby tree, all breath was forced out of her; in a flash, the wolf was atop her, greeting her with its feral snarl. Pinning her to the tree, the wolf opened his great jaws. Teeth presented in a twisted smile, he dug his long, yellowed fangs into her right shoulder. The Guard screamed in pain, incapable of struggling against the mammoth creature's weight. Once she hung limp with blood loss, the wolf released her. She fell in defeat, thudding heavily against the forest floor, her vision beginning to fail. Menacingly, the beast turned to face Swiftsure.

No, not Swiftsure. I… I can't let this happen. I can't give up!

Although she could barely see or stand, the Guard somehow managed to rise from the ashes. Pushing her broken body well past its limits, she rushed forward, blood gushing from the wound on her shoulder. Despite her fatigue, her dizziness, and her disbelief, she jumped on top of the wolf's back and wrapped her arms securely around the creature's waist. Firmly rooting herself to the earth, the Guard used leverage and gravity to her advantage and, in a near miraculous feat, managed to lift the wolf. Flipping him over her body and onto the ground, the Guard swiftly adjusted to place the beast in a stranglehold. Then, raising her left arm high, she brought her fist down on the wolf's head repeatedly, each dull crack louder than the last. Although he struggled, the Guard did not let go; instead, she held on, burying her fist in its skull. Soon, a distinct and sickening pop brought the battle to an end, and the life drained from the gargantuan creature completely.

Panting, both the Guard and Swiftsure sat in utter silence, waiting to see if they had truly survived the ordeal. Eventually, the young canine approached her, sucking in a hefty breath and exhaling tears. The dog's small frame shuddered, and he buried his face into her lap. Swiftsure had been so paralyzed with fear that he could do nothing until this very moment. Drowsy with blood loss, the Guard raised a heavy hand to pat him on the head reassuringly.

"It's okay now," she lulled, "You're safe." She tried her best to comfort him, yet her awkward, tired movements did her no good; still, she managed to stroke the fur on his back. Once again, the Guard could feel her mind back sliding, her thoughts steadily becoming jarred and jagged. Her brain was shutting down, most likely for energy retention; thinking put too much strain on her system. She morphed into a functional being which ran solely off instinct, her skills for communication all but disappearing.

A long time passed before Swiftsure's hushed weeping came to an end. Sitting up on his haunches, the dog looked forlornly into her eyes and spoke:

"I-I'm sorry I couldn't do anything. I was just s-so... scared," he apologized, guilt staining his words. Reluctantly, his eyes scanned over her body to assess the damage that had been done. It was clear she needed medical attention, yet where they would find the help she needed in such an isolated place was beyond either one of them. Fate, however, would finally smile upon them.

From down a pathway neither one had prior noticed, a warm light shone. It bobbed up and down while advancing, hovering a few feet from the ground and casting shadows as it went. The ball of bouncing light was not alone – it had a companion. A noise which resembled the sound of wind chimes reached their ears, ringing each time the light dipped. Staring down the trail, the Guard could make no sense of the odd glow that approached them. She had never seen anything like it before (though, she had to admit, she had seen little). It wasn't until the light landed in close proximity that it was revealed for what it actually was: an old crone. Wreathed in black, the hunched figure came to a halt a few yards before them, her gnarled hand clutching a walking stick from which a lantern hung. Beneath the cloak which masked all but her grinning mouth, a large hump could be seen. Sewn along the dark fabric of her robes were several strands of broken glass and metal which reflected the lantern-light in a dazzling display; these strands chimed softly with every shifting move she made. The Guard and Swiftsure were silent, one too stupid to speak, the other too fearful.

"I am the Guide: keeper of the paths and trees, wanderer of this forest," she announced with a smirk. Her crackling voice was wise and gleeful, an invisible aura of ancient knowledge oozing from her. "Are you lost, young travelers?" She paused, waiting to see if either would respond, and for a time neither did. Although she appeared harmless, the was air of mystery exuded by her was unnerving – even the Guard could sense it. In a strange manner, the crone repeated her phrase again: "I am the Guide: keeper of the paths and trees, wanderer of this forest. Are you lost, young travelers?" Her embellishments were different the second time around, her voice more amused than the first - was she toying with them?

"U-um, we are," answered Swiftsure. "She needs help. Badly."

"So, it is aid you seek," she stated, old voice hinting that she had known all along.

"Y-yes."

"Then it is aid you shall have," said the crone as she turned, her various shawls sweeping with her, "Come, children, follow me." Without another word, she stepped back down the path she had come, never bothering to see if they followed. Swiftsure looked to the Guard to seek her opinion; without words, they came to their decision. In the end, there were no other options. The Guard nodded her head slightly, affirming their course of action. She got to her feet rather stiffly, her limbs beginning to feel the soreness of exhaustion. When she finally stood, she wobbled a little, almost losing her balance. Swiftsure waited patiently until she was capable of moving, and together the two headed after their mysterious guide. Where she was taking them, neither one knew. At the moment, however, anywhere was better than here.