Snippet #2428315

Dar'Athrax's loping strides carried him swiftly through the lower foothills of the northern mountains. Years of combat had honed his senses, his nose could detect no smells save that of animals- his forked tongue agreed with his nose. His field of vision was slightly more impeded due to the heavy foliage and brush of the hills. The terrain itself wasn't overly spectacular either, uneven and rocky...only his size allowed him traverse the time with anything resembling ease. An echoing roar also dominated the vicinity, a large river was nearby...over the next ridge if his ears were at all accurate. A wind carrying the boreal chill of the high peaks rushed over his skin and he was forced to grip his cloak tighter to offer a slight amount of respite.

A dull thud resounded on his right shoulder, searing pain and a warm wetness issued soon after from the limb. Pure reflex caused his body to roll left, saving him from two others. Broad-tips?! The sight of the large,bladed arrow heads left upon the stones came with a large increase of his heart rate- he had to run. He'd set out this morning hoping to find a site for ambush, maybe even lay waste against even a small portion of the army responsible for his tribes massacre. However, it would appear he himself had been the one ambushed; a curious notion since broad-tipped arrows weren't exactly known for their long range. His breathing had become loud as he pumped his legs, ducked, wove, rolled- anything to keep less arrows from hitting him. Suddenly it hit him, the wind, the archers were using the wind...and no doubt one of the higher perches to shoot him down.

Instinct told him the river was his best bet, and experience and taught Dar'Athrax to listen. He sprinted towards the raging current, now fresh in his vision...white foam and all. His lungs and heart had begun to burn from his exertions; after all his swords, shield and armor were far from light nor was he a feather weight. A line of white hot agony spurted down his back before he managed to dive into the current. The ambush was the least of his worries now, currents battered him with more strength than he'd ever match. His equipment dragged him down like a stone and he felt blood- his very life exit him as a red haze. He struggled his way to the surface and barely managed a breath before the water crashed down upon him again. His skull cracked against something with a crack, but it wasn't his flesh that gave...a log? In desperation, he dug his claws into the wood and began to climb- eventually breaching the surface once more.

The log of his salvation was revealed to in fact be an entire tree- uprooted during the previous weeks heavy rain in all likelihood. He took advantage of his perch to shed his cloak, his claws severed the cloth with ease. The waterlogged fur instantly sank back into the current and vanished from sight- it did not reappear. The free hand was then used to peruse his wounds- none of the arrows had sunk too deeply and the bleeding was light. The biggest issue was the cloak having broken several shafts in its descent. A sudden lurch forced him to dig the claws of his hands and feet deeper into the wood- his own weight and shift the tree from its own perch. In slow motion everything pitched forward and joined the river once more, it was not long until the waters slowed. It was rather expected, the river widened and the area had a less steep incline-naturally the waters would calm. It was only at this point Dar'Athrax noticed a significant change of the suns orientation. How long have I been adrift, the thought floated through his consciousness. For that matter, have I even remain conscious this entire time?

Events weren't adding up- either exhaustion or blood loss was making him groggy... and weaker. His grip began to loosen and he was unable to command his fingers- the world became black. A knife like pain from his side brought him conscious and he subconsciously roared as only those descended of dragons were capable. A familiar tree was at his side, washed ashore in a terrain he didn't recognize. The scents were different- even the plants didn't match, hunger pains also racked his insides...how long had he been out? The area was still heavy with foliage, and only the vaguest memory of descriptions from southern traders came to mind. This would mean he was in the kingdom proper-days if not weeks from his home in the north if he were to walk.Given his current condition, that didn't provide much assurance- just because the bears were no longer at least double his size and wolves smaller than horses didn't mean he was any safer. With what strength he had left, Dar'Athrax dragged himself away from the riverbank before once more losing consciousness.