Passively suicidal. That was the term, wasn't it? For not killing yourself, but not intending to keep yourself from dying, or removing yourself from harms way?
Yes. Maybe she was passively suicidal.
The ground was soft beneath her feet, and the sky blazed the brilliant amber gold of dawn. She was surrounded by beauty, serenity, and hatred. The group of mercenaries stood waiting for her and one other, garbed in brown and black. Dallin was at the head of the group, naturally; The young employer stepping forward to cease Eva and kiss her on the mouth, whether she liked it or not. He smirked at her knowingly- she tasted of brandy, just as, it seemed, she always would.
Rolling her eyes she adjusted her bow over her back. "Who are we waiting on?" she questioned, which seemed to strike Dallin back into his previous (and common) state of annoyance. "Enna. New girl and a dumb little brat at that, but she can throw a knife."
... in the end Enna was left behind, and they set off towards the northern woods. There was an odd feeling of morbid giddiness among them, just as it had been last time.
Between the waiting and the walk, it was midsun when they arrived at the camp, illuminated brazenly by the light of day. They walked up to the camp calmly, swords drawn and eyes steeled. Evangelline and Dannan sat back with their bows up and ready.
The 'enemy' didn't have that chance.
It was a frenzy, the bloodshed was immediate upon Dallin's charge into the camp, striking down one of them before he was fully aware. The rest of the camp, though, had managed to ready themselves in those few moments: scrambling to grab their various weapons and toss aside their drinks.
She got a shot off, clean at the waist as one had raised his sword to strike. Then another, that sunk into the shoulder of one of the few opponent archers.
But as with all things, retaliation was inevitable. A flourish of warmth and painful numbness spread from her side as things seemed to slow down for a moment. Barely registering the stabbing sensation for the traveling ache that followed. An arrow had sunk into her left side, the leather she wore keeping it from going in deep enough to be truly dangerous, but it hurt all the same.
She moved away, trying to back away from the fight to see where it had hit.
Faintly she registered the steps of someone trying to move quietly behind her, she turned around and the world went black.
