A nut brown horse crested the top of the hill, the morning sun shining from behind it. The large woman on the horses back was slouched, but she looked up to see the horizon. Her face was dirty, and her hair was matted and plastered to the side of her head. Her clothes were torn beyond that of normal travel wear. Blood stains would be clearly visible, large tears and rips showing scars and partially healed cuts. Across her back, hung a great axe. It had once been proud, clean, and sharp, now rusted, chipped, and blunt. Across her chest, a bundle of rags was slung a bundle of rags that she cradled in her arms.
Katnya looked down at Ost guruth in the distance. She'd be able to get there by midday, but the sooner the better. She turned her gaze to the bundle she carried, and the baby wrapped in the rags. She needed to reach the ruin hold soon.
The large woman gave her horse a nudge and it made its way down the hill, plodding at a pace that wouldn't harm it'sriders. A few moments later, an lynx would appear above the hill, and stealthily follow the horse. Brynna was now almost fully grown, and half the reason Katnya was still alive. The feline had hunted for her human companion, and even collected sticks for fires, and though Katnya had at first been reluctant to abandon her vegetarianism, she had no choice to save her child.
Nearly there Alaya
She gazes West, past the ruins towards Bree. Bree. Once at Ost Guruth she could get a letter sent to Bree, and Tim. Tim... my husband... he'll finally see his daughter. The thought brings a smile to her face, and a cut on her lip cracks and starts bleeding. Kat winces, and gives her horse another nudge, to speed up.
It was just gone midday when Kat's horse arrived at the ruin hold. She was slumped over the saddle, dehydrated and malnourished, not to mention injured. The watcher hurried her and the child to the healers, who set to work. Amazed at the sheer strength the woman had shown to get there in her condition. As they worked on her through the afternoon, she attempted to speak.
"My husband... Tirmegil... Bree..." she gets out of her hoarse throat. Understanding what she wanted, a letter was sent to Bree for Tirmegil, though it wouldn't arrive for many days.
