Sipley descended to the ground, her arms reaching and stretching to catch hold of something. It was with a dull thud that her head smacked against earth and everything went black.

[i]Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.[/i]

The assassin gradually opened her eyes to see chaos surrounding her; she couldn’t have been out for more than a second, but it felt like an eternity. She was sluggish to get up from the floor and she pressed a hand to the back of her head. It felt warm, sticky, and Sipley knew this feeling well: blood. Groaning, she stumbled and fell to her knee, unsteady. A nauseous swirl in her gut occupied her mind and everything was spinning and spinning and spinning. The woman shook her head vehemently and everything righted. Gathering her bearings, she rose slowly to her feet and concentrated on the fallen giant before her.

He had smashed the inn and his neck was bare, she had an estimated twenty-second margin to kill him before he got up again. Sipley made a move towards him, uncaring that she would take the others’ kill. She wasn’t a team player. This was hers. Her breath was shaky and her ankles seemed to quiver side to side. Sutton tried to calm herself, head wounds always seemed worse than they actually were. She fell again, her knee bruising from the hard impact on the ground. How did Aldred get up after a fall like this? Maybe she had landed weird. Sipley, for once, decided to rely on the others to get this giant until her heart rate calmed down and her head stopped pulsing.