400;
For Jiva. Setting is Fundy National Park.
He could hear them coming, he was sure of it. His heel pressed harder into his horse's side, urging her own faster, to tread harder upon the soft ground. There was no way he would look back to see his shadowy pursuers, only following the bird's shadow that floated a few miles ahead. 'Runrunrun', his broken mind would scream. He lowered his body where he was seated on the mare's back, its chestnut coat blending into the desert hues of the male's fur, making them one. If it weren't for the wind whistling in his ears and through his mangled coat, he would be able to hear them approach. But it was not safe, not here... not now.
Lohit halted the mare as soon as he saw the falcon overhead perch. It was safe, for now. Canines were exposed between his lolling tongue, breathing as heavily as the mare under his still-braced legs. It took a few moments for the coyote to calm down before dismounting, finally chancing a look behind them. Receded citrine eyes focused heavily on the pines, the visible trails, the trickles of water from a nearby river.. nothing. They were gone, for now. A nod from the scraggly male confirmed the suspicion, turning to brush an idle claw along the mare's mane. "We drink," he said finally within the confines of the forest, in tones that hinted at his foreign background.
There was no one following him, of course, the clan hadn't even made chase the moment he had left. Lohit had found himself uneasy with a shadow among the trees, and it seemed his mind was playing tricks with him. Wherever he was, at least now he was free, yet forever trapped within his twisted mind. At some point the male found himself unhitching his spear from where it was strapped to his back, and Saranyu must have found the rest of the way to the river, for the wild male had stopped following her. He was a statue, lost in thought, lost to the world, stirring only when the branches in a nearby tree shook. Lohit eyed the vulture-like falcon, and in response it ruffled its ebony feathers. It could speak, the coyote knew, but its words were just as broken as his, if not worse. Salmon tongue ran across salivating lips once, twice, and started off towards the river to taste true freedom.
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