Run through the woods [any]

[Lourde]

This wasn't the first time Lourde had been prey.

If you live long enough, predators will someday find you. They feed their hunger, their insatiable appetites in one way or another. It might be of body, flesh; it might be of mind; but hunters will always find a way to locate you. Today was no different, and while Lourde had tried to avoid crossing paths with the beast, she'd inadvertently found herself in its cross hairs. 

Lourde heard it before she saw it. Its skeletal appearance camouflaged it within the dark branches of the trees. You are well fed...I think, if we hunted you, you would run for several days before we ate. Her breath catches, if only for a moment. It was as if the being hadn't talked in ages - its voice was raspy, alien. As it makes its way through the thick hawthorn branches, Lourde meets its gaze, inspecting the creature and assessing the situation.

What stands before her is a mare drenched in midnight. Obsidian markings, like ink spilled on parchment, pour over her frame. Lourde glances to the long, sooty horn between her eyes. She notes the remnants of tissue hanging from it, blood dripping off every so often to land between the mare's raven eyes. The mare moves ever-closer, horn bent towards Lourde threateningly. 

Do not worry, I would kill you before my aunt ate very much of you. 

From Lourde's point of view, she had two options - run or talk. If she ran, the lithe creature would certainly catch up eventually. She would call for her aunt, devour her flesh, and maybe spare her the pain of being eaten alive. However, the spiny mare had spared her thus far. They had crossed paths unbeknownst to Lourde - she could've easily pounced upon her, dug her teeth into Lourde's soft silver flesh. But...she didn't. Lourde must've been worth talking to, if nothing else for the beast to play with her food before eating it. 

Lourde relaxes her tensed muscles. Surely, this mare was smart enough to know how she had startled her. Surely, she was smart enough to know that for the first time in a long time, Lourde was scared. She decides, however, to just talk, to find a way out of this situation, and maybe that first step was to act as if she wasn't terrified at all. 

"I pride myself on the finer things in life," She says plainly, eyes never leaving the mare's face. They trace her angular jaw, make note of her blackened teeth, stringy muscle still hanging from them. "A good lover, a run through the woods, a dip in a lake during summer..." Her voice trails for a moment as she gives the mare a forced half-smile. "...a high quality meal. Not unlike yourself, it seems." Lourde gestures to the mare's brandished horn, still dripping blood, though now it lands on the pale snow beneath them. 

"Your aunt must be around here somewhere. How kind of you not to call her over, just yet." Lourde says, as confidently as she can. "You two must be seasoned hunters. I'm sure you eat your fair share of the...well fed."  

@Eyre