Chimera Fields magister

Another came, tall as an ancient tree, red as the dying sun. Rhaena’s wide eyes followed him as he leaped straight into the chaos, his powerful form a blur of movement.
She had been trembling, heart pounding with terror for Raedwulf’s safety. But now, with this new warrior beside him, a wave of relief loosened the knot in her chest. He spoke in the same strange, guttural tongue as Raedwulf, his voice a force of its own. Were they kin? Friends? She would ask later, if she found the courage.
Her dark body still quivered, her paws barely able to hold her steady, but when the cougar shrieked, high and pained, something shifted. The terror that had gripped her so tightly began to loosen, slipping away like mist in the morning sun. The shadow girl did not understand their words, but she understood this: now was her chance.
Rhaena turned, her legs moving before she could think, carrying her away from the battle and toward the shelter of the trees. Yet she did not run far; she could not. Instead, she tucked herself away within the undergrowth, ears flat, breath shallow, periwinkle gaze fixed upon the fight. She knew how this would end; could almost see it already: the cougar’s hide stretched across a chamber floor, a silent trophy of the warriors who felled it. When the battle will finally end, she would follow in their footsteps; they were her shelter now.