Vacant Throne

[Startedraining]

(It's okay babs)

Fai glanced at the timer, counting down. It was already at three minutes, and her battle plan was not finished just yet. She looked down at her lap once more, calculating in detail how she would stay away from all the others, and refrain from killing until she absolutely needed to.
Firstly she would run as far as possible, dodge around falling bodies if there was a blood bath immediately, and try to not get killed. She suddenly realized she was wearing white, and she would need to hide somewhere where she could be hidden. In the trees, perhaps, her white wouldn't be very visible at the top of an oak or a fir tree, she may be taken as a cloud.

She nodded to herself, glanced at the clock once more. Thirty seconds. She lifted her skirts and started to run, outside of the building and into the arena, grabbing only a bag of food before she set out across the huge feild.

[cjr09]

Tetra does manage to successfully scare most of the fighters from the arena.

Those that remain she didn't trust as far as she could throw them.

Which, in some cases, was pretty far. As far as Lyric could throw them, then.

They snag a bag of food and supplies each- they're annoyingly brightly colored, first order of business is to find some mud- and they take off into the woods.

Cannon fire echoes across the field, and for a few seconds, everything stops.

Then it's chaos.

They scramble up the nearest trees, hiding their bags as best they could- and lie in wait.

The hunters were gunning for them first- though they'd split up; this was only a group of four.

They've seen worse odds.

The hunters make the mistake of not looking up when tracking- and the battle begins.

Tetra twists her staff, turning a wheel, and a long blade springs forth from the tip.

She separates the first hunters' head from his shoulders and guts the second before she hits the ground.

Lyric dives onto his first target blades-first- he punctures him through the lungs and and rips his blades out, onto his next victim.

The clang of steel on steel fills the air for only a short amount of time- there's little to be said for cowards such as the hunters.

Experience would rule, here.

Numbers aren't a bad thing to have, though.

Short as their battle is, they don't get away unscathed- only a few scratches, but they bleed enough to attract every predator in the forest, should they go untreated.

Winter was coming- it was in the stiff coolness of the air and the crunch of the grass- and it only made the predators more and more vicious.

They steal whatever weapons and supplies they find- knives seem most abundant, though its a pack of supplies for each of them, so they're safe as far as food goes.

They retreat to a nearby stream to wash away the blood and bandage their wounds, six packs of supplies, enough knives for a small army, and a few swords were a hefty prize- and one they needed to guard preciously.

They wait, for now.

(I don't know what to wriiiittteeee)