Without a bow, her quiver and arrows were useless. Alma removed her quiver from her back, and placed it high up in the tree where the enemy could not get it, but she might be able to retrieve it later - that, or one of comrades would if she died. A flash of chestnut in the corner of her eye alerted her to the fact that her opponent had gained control over her horse and was heading toward her. Before she could hop on to another branch a knife whistled through the air, piercing her in the hip.
The pain from the wound caused her to stumble and fall backwards on to the ground. The wind was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment Alma just lied there while the horse galloped toward her. She thought of her family, her clan and the things she'd never done and would never get to do. At that moment it wasn't that she didn't want to live, it was just that it seemed so impossible. The odds were against her - she was fighting a trained warrior on horseback, with a sword and shield, while she had nothing.
"Alma, move!" came her mother's voice in her ear. This time, she did not ignore it - perhaps some old remnant from her childhood made her respond to her mother's command. She rolled over to the side, narrowly avoiding the horse's path. The knife in her hip tugged at her as she moved, causing her to howl out in pain.
By luck, she hadn't broken anything in the fall - but something would get broken if she didn't get away from the horse and its rider. The orange-haired woman's howl slowly died down to a whimper. She stumbled up and pulled the knife from her wound, then took off. She did not discard the weapon - it was the only thing she had now, and she might need it later.
Blood flowed from both her wounds, marring her fur and splattering on to the ground as she ran. She loped around trees and zigzagged through the underbrush. The horse was behind her, she knew, for could hear its thundering hooves. There too came the sound of cursing from its canine master; the horse was having trouble following the coyote. It was a fast beast, but it could not make quick turns.
Skulls hanging from the trees warned Alma of the borders before she'd made the mistake of crossing them. She swerved suddenly and changed her course, circling around a very wide pine tree to confuse her stalker. Her path then took her deeper into clan territory. She had the vague notion that she should find her way to the mansion, but she couldn't stop and observe the landmarks - she had no idea whether she was actually getting closer or further away. Her erratic movement did not help, either.
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