You made the mistake of wandering too far into the Misty Forest, and now you find the fog so thick that you cannot see your hands when your arms are extended. You are stumbling blindly through the foggy density of the trees, with no idea of where you are or where you came from. As you walk slowly, you often run into trees and low-lying bushes, scraping and bruising yourself. From the distance the distance you hear a noise, but the fog is so thick that it is too muffled to understand. As you make your way, you hear more and more noises and fear takes its hold on you. Terrified, you fall and begin to crawl on your hands and knees to escape the sounds that are getting closer. Not knowing what it is that seems to be persuing you, you call out. Your voice too is muffled, and the words choke in your throat, unable to escape. On the edge of your hearing, you hear what may have been a low growl, or was something being dragged along the ground? Did you just see something to your right?

Phedre's heart pounded in her ears seeming to drown out the already dulled sounds around her. She pressed her back instinctivly to a nearby tree, hoping that nothing could surprise her by behind then. Her hair was damp with the fog and stuck to her body. She breathed quicker than normal, but she controlled her panic, getting it to subside to a small biting in her stomach. Her lips slowly parted as she breathed, her eyes wide trying to see through the fog.

She looked to her right, was something there? She shook her head, trying to clear it, and ran her hands over her daggers at her hip. The branches seemed to do more damage than anything else. Long scratches and scrapes traced her face and neck, sporting a blood splashed tortured appearance. Her body started to shake. A makeshift bandage around her upper arm had bled through and she was running out of things to tie it with. She growled under her breath, angry at herself for allowing her attention to slip long enough for her to wander into the trap.

She sighed, at least she was free of it now... no matter how worse off she would seem to be. She ran her fingers gently over her collar bone where a low lying tree branch seemed to swipe her. It was tender and if she could see it clearly, she was sure it was purple and black in a nasty bruise. She heard a twig snap near her and jerked her head the direction, ignoring the shot of pain sent up from her collar.

Phedre:
There is a brief sighting of someone else near you, and you hear a whisper smothered by the fog. It almost sounded like "Over there, the beast is over there!" Perhaps not. Had it been your eyes playing tricks on you, or was there someone out there? A faint barking of a dog finds its way to your ears as well.

She swore under her breath and got to her feet, blinded by the fog. She felt her way up the tree and pulled herself up on a low lying branch. She hoped to escape the dog's nose... the fog dampening its smell.

She almost fainted in pain as a wash of red dripped over her left eye. The pain grew to an unbearbale amount. Oh blessed Gods, she thought, closing her eyes and pushing her back against the tree trunk, send someone...

She hugged her knees and rested her blood splattered head on them. Her clothing was torn and askew and her hair matched, making her look like the perfect depiction of a dead woman.

Death seemed to be a relief to her at the moment... and it scared her. For an assassin, death was teh end of it all. It was the ultimate failure... the never ending horror.
___

OOC: Sorry if this isn't enough I can add more asap if it isn't....

Phedre:
You can hear very clearly a barking of several hounds, and there seem also to be several people with the dogs. A hunting party? "I think she went this way!" you hear one man shout. It occurs to you that they may be looking for you.

What?! Panic rose up in her veins and her body began to shake violently. She couldn't subdue the panic. Her heart rate rose and tudding wildly in her ears, her breathing became more sharp and ragid. The pain of her many wounds seemed to numb in shock. They're looking for me? How... How did they know?

She looked around her, ignoring the hint of pain she felt from her collar bone injury, the slight pain that slipped through the shock. If I could just transform... She closed her eyes trying to force herself into her dragon form. It wouldn't appear. When saw the shape and just grabbed hold of it, it would slip through her fingers like tiny grains of sand.

She cursed under her breath, the shock subsiding and the overwhelming pain returning. Her veins pulsed, her muscled screamed and her heart raced all at once. The panic and stress was unbearable, straining at the back of her eyes, almost blinding her.

She blinked away another drop of blood, catching it on her eyelash. She was to panics to reach for the wound, instead she sat motionless, hoping her stillness would trick the hounds. She risked another glance to the side and almost fainted in pain. Her collarbone poked questionably at her skin.

A drop of her blood fell from her hand, landing with what seemed like an echoing thunder on the forest floor.

"Gods save me..." she whispered closing her eyes.

Phedre:
You can hear the sounds of more barking. "The dogs have got something!" someone shouts, "There is some blood here! She's to the west!" You can hear the increased sound of footsteps coming your way, and the noises of the hunting party are getting louder. Surely they will catch you if you stay where you are.

*Wandering around the outskirts of the fog, he wondered what all the commotion was about. He was cautious about entering that which he could not see, for the elements in there were nothing too appealing. He heard the sounds of dogs and of men.--They're out hunting in the mist again...how wierd-- He then heard another set of footsteps, fainter--that of a woman.

Piecing the clues together, he realized that this woman was the ones they were hunting--What manner of inhumanity is this? I have to do something about it.--* M'lady? *he called out as he ventured cautiously into the mist* You must make a continuous noise so I can find you and get you out of here *he hoped for a reply as he wondered why in Lómen's name would she be hunted.*

This time she rolled her eyes. Whichever hunter had just called out to her, was a lot less intelligent than she had originally assumed.

Looks like a hunter's brain is actually his four legged mangy fuzz ball, she thought to herself.

She climbed higher in her tree, careful not to make a sound. Her breathing was slow and shallow, for silence, despite her gripping need for air. Her blood seemed to stop pulsing in her viens, ceasing the dripping from her wounds. Sweat still held strands of raven hair to her face and her muscles screamed as they strained silently.

Her grip on the tree slowly began to slip and curses streamed through her mind. Her human nails shot straight into the tree's bark as silver dragon talons. Tiny flecks of bark tore from the tree with her sudden force, but other than that nothing but the hunter's steady padding echoed throughout the mist.

Thoughts ran through her head constantly... if she was caught, what would she do? Instant suicide seemed to be the only thought in her mind, her heart beating wildly against her rib cage. Times had changed... there was other options... wasn't there? Beads of sweat appeared on her brow, sliding down her face in quiet streams.

*Wandering through the mist, a few stray branches whipped at his face, making a marking on his face similar to the one that was shown at the entrance to his shrine. His left and right hand both gripped his katana as he made his way through, wondering what he would find, whether it be friend or foe.

Several moments later, he bumped into a leashed dog who was rushing through the mist. His eyes following the leash up, he realized who it belonged to as the one who held the leash stopped in front of him. Almost appalled at how this man looked, he suppressed a laugh, but kept his grip on his weapon.* Kuut ajahehk cen((translation: good evening sir)). What brings you to such a dark and unsafe region such as this? I thought the season to hunt game wasn't for a few months.*he put the pieces together that this man and probably others like him were the hunters he heard not too long ago. His mind drifted back to where she could be and hoped the moon would guide her way to safety.*

She heard the muffled voices of what she thought was the hunters and their dogs. They had stopped approaching, she should be able to make her escape without fear of capture... but her curiousity got the better of her.

Her dragon talons retracted and she dropped from the branch to land with a near inaudible thud on the forest floor. Splashes of blood dashed the ground where she landed marking her once hiding spot. She shook her head, raven black hair slipping from her face, flecks of sweat breaking from her skin.

She began to pad softly towards the men, knowing full well that she was who they were seeking. She walked on padded feet, without sound, a trait she learned long ago... a needed trait for a deadly assassin. She stopped 15 feet from the collecting hunters, and saw a lone man speaking to him without a dog, and not dressed like the rest.

The wheels in her head turned as she thought of who the man was. He looked so familiar... but she couldn't put her finger on it. SHe wasn't one for following the dieties, and their shapes always changed so she never really seemed to be able to solidly recognize them. She had basically given up her faith in them and because of it, looked upon their images as normal beings of Arda.

*The hunter tried to walk past Zechs, but Zechs would not allow this. His hand went straight for his samurai blade and drew it quickly. He then extended his arm out to block the man who tried to pass him by using his blade.* Excuse me sir, I asked you a simple question, and I do not appreciate how you dismissed me like that. Now you can either answer me and we'll be on our merry way, or this blade will gut the answers out of that pear-shaped head of yours. What shall it be?

*Not liking Zechs' actions, two other men, both with the same kind of dog the first one has approached him. The bigger of the three looked at him.* Boy, you don't know what you're getting into, but since you think drawing weapons is fun, we'll just have to reciprocate. *The three hunters then drew their weapons, all blunt and dangerous in their own right. One drew a single nunchuck, the other a whip, and the last one had a spiked club. Zechs had his work cut out for him, but he'd fight so the one they hunt has a window of opportunity to escape.

Zechs then back off the hunter and slashed downward to slice the leash of the dog. He cut it right before the guys hand and saw the leather fall down to the floor. He then turned away and ran full speed at the dog whose leash he cut. The dog was charging after Zechs as well. Mere Feet from the dog, he leaped into the air and reached for the middle of the leash. He instead caught it a little bit further away, but still enough for a grip.

With one quick yank, the dog stopped in its tracks. He move as close as he could without being succeptable to a suprise attack by the dog and severed the other end of the leash. He grabbed the end of the leash closest to him and began to twirl it in the air.* If you must be violent, come, meet violence, for I will show you the true meaning of pain.

((ooc: green is the hunters speech))

Phedre crouched behind one of the bushes nearby, blood dashing its leaves instantly. She watched the scene play out and couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Men," she breathed ever so softly.

Her dragon talons still dug into the ground near her feet, she had to let her dragon side roam, it was growing restless. Her nerves seemed to relax though, the sweat drying on her skin, leaving diamond-like reflections in the sun. Her hair still clung to her face and neck like a vampiric shadow. If this scene truley showed the intellegence of the hunters, she had little or nothing to worry about.

She shook her head, surpressing the urge to stand and slice them all into minute pieces. Instead she focused her eyes on the ground and the grooves her talons were digging into the ground, and perks her ears for more noise. She felt the rage of her dragon form stir in her chest, and her patience dwindle lower. Closing her eyes, she forced her second form back down, controling its raw power, easing into a frozen state... for now.

She lifted her head, turning her attention back to the hunters and waiting for the newcommer to make his move. She looked at his stance. "Not bad," she thought silently, "but his attitude could be the one to slice him up."

A squirril hopped up beside her and chattered innocently, looking up into her violet pooling eyes. The hand closest to the rodent tensed as she felt the dragon urge pump back into her viens. Her talons extented and dug deep into the forest floor, but yet the squirril still sat innocently. She lost her grip on herself and her hand lifted up and came down on the creature almost inaudibly. When she lifted her hand again, the urge had ended, and so had the squirrils life. She looked up, slightly paniced, at the hunters hoping they hadn't heard anything.