Exit — Roleplayer Guild

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A K A I A
A K A I A 

The Ruined City   ·   Late Afternoon
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Akaia kept pace with the others as best she could, relying on her natural agility to not fall too far behind, but as she continued to run, a combination of distractions saw to the gap in front of her widening. For one, she was now thirty-six hours into her day. Just the day before she was pushing herself to extremes to return home as fast as she could, taking advantage of numerous shortcuts and running when she could have been walking just to answer a feeling. Now, here she was again, this time running for her life. Her legs were screaming at her to stop. Her chest was tightening. Her vision blurring slightly around the edges. Adrenaline was doing most of the work keeping her awake but the temporary solution would only last so long and once she came down from its high, she knew how heavy she would feel. She knew how unfocused she would remain and how much more vulnerable she would be and whether she wanted to admit it or not, how much of a danger to herself she was already becoming. A sudden daydream she allowed herself to have in the middle of some long forgotten city had nearly gotten her killed and she knew the next dream could be permanent.

But while her body succumbed to the throws of fatigue, her mind was focused on one thing: Bobbing gently against her every step and cradled perfectly in the palms of her hands was their prize. Glowing leaves bounced as she ran, dancing to her retreat as if in celebration, although a rather sad one if the Sidhe was being honest. Some of the stems seemed to droop lower than it should compared to others. Plus, if memory served her correctly, and she couldn't be entirely sure given her exhausted state, mistle shed a brighter light. This one was dull and dying or was too damaged and a fear gripped her that if she were too rough with the way she moved, she'd shake the thing apart. And so she slowed her pace.

What caused her to stop however was the strange feeling of air on the exposed skin of her forearm. When she glanced over out of mild curiosity, it was only then that she realized that in her haste to extricate the mistle, she had left behind two of her prized possessions. She turned just in time to see the house she had been in only moments earlier crumbling to dust, burying her things with it.

A shout from Licorice interrupted a thought that escaped the girl's lips as a whimper and a second drowned out the impulse to turn back. Instead, she bit her lip and kept going, ignoring the pieces of her she was leaving behind.
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