The chills were making it hard to stand as Dagny Finnur made her way through the underground. Cold sweat made her hair stick to her face in an increasingly distracting manner, forcing her to stop every few steps to push it out of her eyes - she could barely see without the distraction, she did not need the extra challenge. At least for now it sounded like her assailants had given up on the chase - she did not know whether they had decided she was no longer interesting prey or if they had simply lost her (although judging by the blood trail indicating where she had come from, that was likely not the case) - but she was glad to still be able to draw breath. The sets of teeth on her throat made her feel dirty in a way she'd never thought imaginable and the gash the vampires had torn into her leg was sure to do her in, lest she found help before she passed out. Served her right for deciding to go to a party in the middle of nowhere when she really should have been staying in, trying to make up for all the deadlines she had missed and the lectures she denied to attend. Her degree had never seemed further away, although right at that moment, she considered it the least of her problems. She blamed it on the blood loss, but it did take her a while to realise that she was in the tunnels most frequented by werewolves. Dagny almost groaned in frustration at missing that very obvious fact - her pursuers had neither lost her track nor decided to let her go, they merely wanted to avoid a clash by infringing on werewolf territory. Or they had chased her down here on purpose so someone else could finish what they started. Dagny had never learned who had a better sense of smell of the two factions - vampires or werewolves - but she was convinced that it would not take long before someone picked up the smell of fresh human blood. With political tensions being what they were, the tunnels were the last place on earth a human should be finding themselves in. Inhaling deeply and with some modicum of newfound purpose, Dagny tried to limp away faster and it was not long before she heard the voices. Her blood froze in her veins and for a few moments it felt as though she had forgotten how to breathe. Dagny expected to hear growling or some other type of obscene or threatening sound - she expected to hear taunts and mockery, but that was not the case at all. In fact, the voices she heard were perfectly calm, almost unnaturally so, given the circumstances, but they gave her enough courage to progress further, until two figures came into view. A naga and an elf. With a sharp inahle, Dagny propelled herself forward, arms outstretched as though she was reaching for the two. [b]"P-please..."[/b] was all she could mutter before her vision went dark and her body hit the floor, exhaustion and blood loss finally claiming her consciousness.