Her heart raced, beating like war drums inside her chest. She had ran for miles, without a second thought, the moment word came of the assault on the capital.

But word had not come from hasty messengers on horseback. It had come from a man on foot, one who had been shunned in the past for his questionable blood merchant status. This was not unusual, for the wild woman reveled in surrounding herself with those who found themselves lost, or exiled by the world. Such was the strength she held inside, the strength that kept her going, that the ones who followed her vision found they could feel no fear.

'Fear' the womann thought, as she looked down to the smooth, leather mask her hand held, one quite plain but for the blood tipped antlers on its forehead.

The howling of wolves grew nearer by the minute. 'They must be a mile away, trailing me...' she thought.

To her left, she heard a stream. Her last waterskin had been cast away two miles behind, her scent now likely picked by the dozens of wolves. The woman knew she needed to drink, but, more than that, she needed to reach her destination. One second too late would cost the lives of those she was trying to save. 'Perhaps not, if the ashnakari would bless them with their protection' she thought 'but, will they protect those who do not believe in them?'

"Ashnakari val nakr" she lifted a dry, broken branch, and brought it to her lips. Their soft surface kissed the branch, before her mouth opened and took a fierce bite, splitting the branch into tiny pieces "Natures gives us, we take. Eventually we have to pay nature back. When the time comes, I will pay her back, quite well..."

Hastily, she placed the mask on her face and, as if summoning the spirit of a deer with a quick prayer, she resumed her race.

…

Her legs were getting sore, but she was getting closer. Ahead, sudden movement and the glint of metal caught her attention. 'Menn, three' she thought. But when had being outnumbered stopped her?

Increasing her speed, as light footed as possible, the wild womann sprang from among the trees. The armored menn were caught by surprise. The first one raised his shield to protect himself from an attack. Using it as a stairstep, the woman vaulted over the three and into a tree trunk. With the same momentum, she spun around it and kicked one mann's stomach, sending him flying against another trunk.

The second mann unsheathed his sword and swung. But the womann dodged and dove, as if possessed by the wind itself. When the soldier turned to face her, she headbutted him with her mask, the antlers blinding him and killing him seconds later.

The first mann panicked, and dropped his shield as he ran, the same shield she slid over when she jumped on his back, to bite off a piece of his neck.

Ah, but the woman's bloodlust had made her forget the third mann, who now stood behind her. His sword graced her back, before a dozen wolves dug their fangs on his arms and legs. Surely they would only find, if anything, little more than a mauled heap of flesh.

The womann darted off again, and reached the edge of the cliff. The cliff from where she saw the many ships at sea, their catapults assailing the black stone fortress that was her destination.

Her eyes caught a flaming boulder flying towards one of the towers. Instinctively, she removed her mask. Hair the same color of the flames cascaded down. Eyes, the color of infernal fire, showed concern.

She rested less than a minute. The growling of the wolves now behind her, waiting...

The womann pointed a finger at the keep. Placing a hand over her heart she howled as her heart broke. 'Rowena' Her wild instinct took the best of her. She ran, vaulting over rocks across the cliff wall, for while Archduchess Ilhar was ruled by instinct, only one thing surpassed instinct, and that was 'Love'...