Sunset Valley Not Out of the Woods Yet

She had been running for what had felt like hours. Her legs were aching, and her lungs felt empty and dry. Adrenaline and fear feed her drive to keep going, despite not knowing how far away her assailant was behind her. Knowing that if he ever caught up to her, her life would be short lived.

Fumbling through the woods, branches and foliage constantly scratched her sides and face. None leaving a mark as noticeable as the sizable streak of blood staining her white neck and chest. Her crown of emerald blue phlox began deteriorating and unavoidable wet sludge left her feet and ankles cold and numb.

The forest began to fade and in the clearing, a valley with plentiful hills came into sight. She had no time to admire her view as she continued to run, her legs filled with fatigue and struggling to hold her up. At the top of a steep slope she once again lost her footing, but this time the slick ground sent her sliding down the bank on her side, before colliding with a rock half her size. Her front left leg was impounded between the rock and her rib cage, causing her to shriek in pain. Quickly she pulled out her leg and rested it to the side, somewhat thankful that the cold was numbing some of the searing pain.

Laying there it was the first time in awhile she had had to catch her breath, and even though she had stopped moving the sensation of running still lingered in her limbs. Resting on the ground, water pooled around her. A slow breeze accompanied by sporadic snow grazed her coat. Upon the hill she had fallen down lay her tattered crown. Only lit by the luminescent light of the moon as the sun would not rise for a few hours.