The palomino vixen recognized Jedi’s call despite never hearing it before. There was urgency in that tone, urgency that was reflected in her 4-beat pace. Her sturdy structure made maneuvering uneven terrain at high speeds an easy task. The call came from the main entrance and as the sight of her painted warrior came into view her pace did not falter. The stench of iron thick blood as strong as a freshly killed carcass, the figure of the almost lifeless appaloosa initiated a scream of her own. She called for the royals because an injury like this would require more skill than the two students had. She skidded to a stop an pivoted beside the mare so they were side by side. She and Jedi were a brace, a crutch on either side of the damsel. Over the femme’s head Ashara found the warrior’s eyes. Their concern matched. ”To the Falls.” She instructs him although he probably had the same plan. ”We will heal you.” Her words confident and assuring to the injured. As long as they could get her to the healing liquid she would find relief.
Wherever I am, is exactly where I'm supposed to be.