The Tangle Got a secret, can you keep it

The following day she was more refreshed. Her muscles still ached and she was still a prisoner of course, and every time he looked at her or spoke to her she either flinched away from him or had a snappy, bitter retort; but he had let her live. Even after she stumbled and screwed up the hunt. 
But now it was night. 
He had lead her to a horrible place full of sparse plants, tangled trees, and jutting, splintered rocks. And in doing so had blessed her. She laid wedged under a slab of Boulder, eyes fixed on the sleeping mass of her captor. Her heart hammered in her chest and she didn't dare move or make a sound. But he released a loud snore and she braced herself. Slowly, quietly she slipped out of the hollow, trying desperately to move without waking him. 
The sharp stones shifted under her paws and she froze, whispering another fervent prayer. She made it about a hundred paces, zig zagging through the trees, her paws raw and leaving bloodstains on the stones and still she kept trying, desperate, her breath shaking with fear. She would not be safe, she knew, until she was home.