Neverwinter Forest the price of change

Simmik nodded and looked in the direction Vallkyrie had pointed. She wasted no time with questions, assuming that she was supposed to hide and wait like her teacher had explained before. She hunched low to the ground and moved as quietly as possible to a large grouping of rocks. When she arrived there, she quickly hid herself behind them and focused all her attention on what her packmate was doing. 

She watched her ambush the herd, seeming to have no plan at first. But then Simmik noticed that her attention was on a pair of goats. It looked like a mother and a juvenile; her only indication that was the case were the small horns atop the younger goat's head. 

The herd stampeded by, and she remained hunched in her spot, waiting for some kind of signal. It wasn't long before Vallkyrie was moving the pair of goats right for her. She watched, frozen with indecision for a few moments. Which one was she meant to attack? Surely, she didn't expect just them to be able to take the older goat down; maybe if she actually knew what she was doing, they could, but that was not the case. The younger goat might be easier, and its horns didn't look like they could rip her open. A memory rushed, unbidden, to the forefront of her mind. So much blood all over the ground and her and—him. She saw the image of her father bleeding out in front of her as clearly as if she had traveled back in time to that terrible day. Her stomach churned and she swallowed the bile that had bubbled up in the back of her throat. She was frozen, trapped in the memory and confronted with all the things she had tried so hard to suppress since leaving her family. 

The goats rushed by, followed by Vallkyrie, but still she couldn't move. No matter how much she willed her legs to bend, they wouldn't.