Neverwinter Forest Piscean

Catamaran only understood how grievous her injury was when she spun to face him, low to the ground and uttering a banshee's scream. His blood rushed faster — this was where he struck the killing blow. But no one, so far as he knew, was willing to pay a thing for the stranger's sorry hide.

Her snarling warned him off, for the moment. He remained poised on his toes, the urge to pounce still trembling in his tensed muscles. He disliked being in this position — one where his prey's fate was ambiguous. Up to him to decide if it lived or it died. She was, he noted, hardly more than a girl. Yet her injury made her slow and desperate. If he released her now, she might just die a slower death someplace else.

The bounty hunter crept a little closer, testing the strength of her response.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He used he voice that Kinusi had preferred. Low and quiet, if not any less abrasive for those facts. He wanted her to answer him, after all. Did she have some safe place she needed desperately to reach?