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Scarlett leaned against a tree to catch her breath after so much running. She had started out flying, but a bullet had scraped her wing, making her tumble to the ground. From then on she had ran for her life, dashing from clearing to clearing, not sure which way to go. It was dark, but she could still see the shape of the forest around her. Only now she looked down at her bleeding arm which the bullet had scraped, cursing before rolling up her sleeve and putting more pressure on it. She heard a howl, the only sound louder then her hoarse breathing. It could mean many things, but Scarlett couldn't walk another step.
She slumped down against the tree in defeat, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. She just needed to rest. She thought freedom would feel a lot different than this, and questionned why she had agreed to it anyways.
She hoped the others had made it, as evidentally one had, and was making sure everybody knew about it.



















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