Deja Vu

Featuring Nuala

Mentioning Mysterious Pursuer

Early Autumn, Year 762 of the New Age

Nothern Glenwood, Glenmore

She wished the nightmare would stop, legs pounding heart racing, all over again. It was happening all over again. Brambles drawing searing lines down her flanks, thistles stinging between her hooves, roots tripping and threatening to twist and trap her legs. Just a little further. She just had to make it that much further and she would be safe.

Almost there, almost...

Gone. They were gone. The clearing was empty, and he was catching up.

No time to think. Where or why or when. Whirling, she raced North.

For as long as her burning lungs would allow, she ran as fast as she could, with only the barest idea of which path she should take. She wasn’t taking in the scenery, she didn’t know how far she had run, and all she knew was that she couldn’t stop.

If she stopped, everything she had gained would be lost.

Her heart was pounding for her to stop, to rest, but her fear wouldn’t let her. The path she ran now was narrow and steep, twisting up between rock and old gnarled trees. For every obstacle she jumped, another was ready to catch her out. She vaulted a high boulder, expecting to land on top except her forelegs met empty air where the back of the boulder had cracked away. Her chest landed heavily on the rock, her rear legs colliding with the rough granite and she scrambled desperately to no effect as she slipped off the far side.

An ancient dry vine caught one foreleg and she twisted as she fell, cutting her own scream short as she feared he would hear her. Whimpering as she pulled the limb free, she took a few pained steps before she halted. She didn’t have time to stop, but neither could she continue with a lame leg. Hastily she balled up her own magic and sent it into her leg. A wave of exhaustion overtook her and she steadied herself on the nearest boulder.

Knowing every second with her eyes closed was another second he had to gain ground, she forced them open and told herself again to keep moving. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a few fallen feathers, dull and lightless and frayed where they should be bright and preened. No time to dwell. He was coming. She had to run.

Up and up she struggled, trotting her way through the minefield of rocks where she would rather canter but she feared another fall would bring him down upon her. The peak of the hill was nearing, and perhaps soon she could start on an easier path down.

On reaching the top, the creamy doe stood alone on a flat bed of rock in the afternoon sun, looking down at the treacherous path she had just taken. Her fearful blue eyes scanned the hill, looking for him. Was that him? Was that?

Movement caught her eyes in the distance, a mile away, a dark solid shape turning to look up at her. He could see her!

Squealing, the doe turned and ran for the descent, only to discover as she came to a skidding halt that the drop was all but sheer. Only a mountain goat could scale this! Wide-eyed and panting, she looked back at the dark shape coming slowly but surely up the rocky path, and mustered what energy and bravado she had left and jumped.

The first few metres were successful, her feet landing where she wanted them to, but half way her momentum became too much and it was all she could do not to fall head over heels. The bottom of the hill and the river that rushed along at its base were coming towards her faster and faster. Before she fell onto the rocky bank, she pushed as hard as she could and jumped, hoping against hope that the river was deep enough.

The water softened her landing with a smack, but her forehooves still jarred against the bottom and for a moment she scrambled and spluttered in panic to get her head back above the water. The river was foaming and white from rushing down the ravine, and it buffeted and pushed the tired doe on its way downstream. All she had strength for was to keep afloat, and her pursuer was forgotten as she fought her newest enemy: nature.

She was not sure how far the river had carried her by the time she stumbled up the bank, but it was now evening she was simply glad for dry land. Grass under her feet greeted her like the most comfortable bed, and she fairly crumpled to lay upon it. Her worries faded to darkness as sleep finally claimed her.