Around her neck the arrowhead clattered and swung. Salvia’s destiny was to be a hunter. She had been born with the twilight woman as her guide and now she had an earthly being who guided her yet. Killing a woman like this would be no different than killing a rabbit or a fox. Salvia felt no empathy for those below her. It was a concept brought on by her upbringing, and reinforced by Salsola’s lifestyle. What did it matter, if she killed some coyote bitch? It didn’t. No one would care.
Unfortunately, she had forgotten to factor in the equation that the horse was not some docile beast. She had never imagined it would come charging at her as if it cared for this tiny thing. Why would she? Horses were not friends, but tools. So startled by the braying was she that Salvia’s jaw went slack. The tiny thing in her mouth tumbled to the ground as she darted sharply away, avoiding a kick from the stallion’s hoof. Ears flattened against her head as Salvia snarled, proclaiming her anger. The horse responded with another whinny and charged her.
With a start, Salvia bolted into the copse behind her. She was smaller than the horse, and knew the landscape well. Within minutes, she had outrun him and retreated to the safety of her home.
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