Hayu
Crisse. These guys are determined. Whatever they want her for, it’s more than just a couple of minor baubles lifted in the marketplace. Not that she stopped to ask – when maniacs start charging at you with swords, it’s hardly the time for polite conversation. Usually, though, guards will stop at the city limits, whereas these bâtards sent horsemen to continue the chase. Three of them, from the sounds of it, though she doesn’t dare lose the time it will take to look back. She needs to get to the trees. The horses won’t be able to run in there, and the guards’ fancy armour will work to their disadvantage.
A small voice in her head notes that she could get a smidge extra speed if she abandons her pack but she squelches it by arguing that she’d lose speed getting out of it, and it’s everything she owns.
Her lungs are burning and her heart feels like it’s going to burst when she hears a grunt and one of the guards shouting that it’s an ambush, which is news to her. Then one of the horses screams and the sound is enough to give her a little burst of speed that she hadn’t thought possible. While Father Louis might argue many reasons why “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” might be false, right now, Hayu is willing to give thanks to whatever God, god or gods has provided her with this gift and sort out the intentions of these third parties, after they and hims fight. All she needs is to reach cover and catch her breath for a minute… maybe an hour or so. Just a little bit further…