She runs as fast as her segmented iridescent green legs can carry her. Normally she would simply use her veiny wings, however this occasion is the least appropriate time: after all, she's in a bleakly drab forest where, if she flew, her wings or hair would be caught on a branch. Which would simply be her demise. Hence, her legs being her vessel of travel during this rainy encounter.
"Get off my gaster!" She shouts behind her with an alto's voice. And her wings buzz to show her anger at her pursuer. She's used to hunting game for food... not being the one hunted for sport. She dodges a wayward branch that is stricken off a tree by the howling winds, barely. She looks behind her at the two rogues chasing after her. One holding a pouch of bounty money and another holding dual daggers. Both sets of compound eyes stare at her hungrily. Mercilessly. As if hoping by sheer sight they could pin down their prey and show why they were paid with such a velvet sack of gold.
The usually composed Amazonian-esc warrioress, Orme, pants like a dog as she runs. This is so stupid! I'm well away from their bloody colony, why are they STILL coming after me?! She grabs a stick off the ground, sharpens it impromptu with her mandibles and throws it at the two ne'er do wells...
Only for it to miss by a hair's pluck.
DANG IT! She groans. "Just get away!" She yells again, her own blue compound eyes starting to show something uncharacteristic: fear.
Her assailants don't respond with words. They simply laugh. One brandishes a rope from his belt.
Orme's pupils shrink seeing the rope. "REALLY?! A rope?! How sick are you two?!" She jumps over a fallen log. Shayleigh, these two are messed up!
However... fate wouldn't be find favor with the petite huntress. Her purple petal's shoe catches onto a creeping root, sending its wearer crashing into the mud with a
THUD
She catches her breath, trying to pull herself back to her feet. Only to be grabbed forcibly on her shoulders. And her hands bound behind her. "Get off me!" She bites down on one rogue's chitin arm. causing him to let go for just for a moment.
Enough time for Orme to get on her feet. But not enough for said feet to get into motion.
Because the bitten mercenary's hand yanks her back down to her knees. "Not so fast, little gyne."
"I said get OFF!" She wrestles with him. And now her stinger pokes out from her gaster. "Otherwise this is going straight into your brain!"
Her threats are met with the other crook yanking her wings. "Oh, shut up, Cuckoo Wasp!"
Orme bites back a yelp of pain to having her precious wings tugged on. "What do you want with me?!"
"Queen's orders." The crooks both say coldly. Both wearing smirks on their metallic faces. They hoist Orme onto one of their shoulders, bind up her wings and legs to keep her from escaping, and dash towards a clearing as the rain starts to let up.
Orme watches the sun come out above the tree canopy. Shayleigh, help! HELP!
Once they reach the clearing, the two thugs beat Orme senseless, taking too much joy in bashing one of their rival species' Chieftains. The whole time they mock her, laugh at her and slap her.
But Orme's eyes show defiance. Complete, hopeful, defiance. Even as her mind lapses and her body feels limp from her injuries. To spite her captors she doesn't give them cries of anguish, bribes or pleas for mercy. She simply stares at them, even as her vision starts to blur.
But after fifty minutes of this torment, she can see the amber hemolymph coming from her wounds. And as some escapes her lips she finally yelps out, "HELP" in a shrill call to anyone who may listen.
Only for her eyelids to fall heavily over her eyes and her head to hang limp. Barely holding onto consciousness, but believing that someone will hear... and someone will help...
"Get off my gaster!" She shouts behind her with an alto's voice. And her wings buzz to show her anger at her pursuer. She's used to hunting game for food... not being the one hunted for sport. She dodges a wayward branch that is stricken off a tree by the howling winds, barely. She looks behind her at the two rogues chasing after her. One holding a pouch of bounty money and another holding dual daggers. Both sets of compound eyes stare at her hungrily. Mercilessly. As if hoping by sheer sight they could pin down their prey and show why they were paid with such a velvet sack of gold.
The usually composed Amazonian-esc warrioress, Orme, pants like a dog as she runs. This is so stupid! I'm well away from their bloody colony, why are they STILL coming after me?! She grabs a stick off the ground, sharpens it impromptu with her mandibles and throws it at the two ne'er do wells...
Only for it to miss by a hair's pluck.
DANG IT! She groans. "Just get away!" She yells again, her own blue compound eyes starting to show something uncharacteristic: fear.
Her assailants don't respond with words. They simply laugh. One brandishes a rope from his belt.
Orme's pupils shrink seeing the rope. "REALLY?! A rope?! How sick are you two?!" She jumps over a fallen log. Shayleigh, these two are messed up!
However... fate wouldn't be find favor with the petite huntress. Her purple petal's shoe catches onto a creeping root, sending its wearer crashing into the mud with a
THUD
She catches her breath, trying to pull herself back to her feet. Only to be grabbed forcibly on her shoulders. And her hands bound behind her. "Get off me!" She bites down on one rogue's chitin arm. causing him to let go for just for a moment.
Enough time for Orme to get on her feet. But not enough for said feet to get into motion.
Because the bitten mercenary's hand yanks her back down to her knees. "Not so fast, little gyne."
"I said get OFF!" She wrestles with him. And now her stinger pokes out from her gaster. "Otherwise this is going straight into your brain!"
Her threats are met with the other crook yanking her wings. "Oh, shut up, Cuckoo Wasp!"
Orme bites back a yelp of pain to having her precious wings tugged on. "What do you want with me?!"
"Queen's orders." The crooks both say coldly. Both wearing smirks on their metallic faces. They hoist Orme onto one of their shoulders, bind up her wings and legs to keep her from escaping, and dash towards a clearing as the rain starts to let up.
Orme watches the sun come out above the tree canopy. Shayleigh, help! HELP!
Once they reach the clearing, the two thugs beat Orme senseless, taking too much joy in bashing one of their rival species' Chieftains. The whole time they mock her, laugh at her and slap her.
But Orme's eyes show defiance. Complete, hopeful, defiance. Even as her mind lapses and her body feels limp from her injuries. To spite her captors she doesn't give them cries of anguish, bribes or pleas for mercy. She simply stares at them, even as her vision starts to blur.
But after fifty minutes of this torment, she can see the amber hemolymph coming from her wounds. And as some escapes her lips she finally yelps out, "HELP" in a shrill call to anyone who may listen.
Only for her eyelids to fall heavily over her eyes and her head to hang limp. Barely holding onto consciousness, but believing that someone will hear... and someone will help...
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Orme is a character here: Character(s) - Ciela's Children (at least a small portion)
And this is the prelude to her story as told in Shayla's folktales. I hope you enjoyed!
(Yes she's a bug. I'm a nerd)
Orme is a character here: Character(s) - Ciela's Children (at least a small portion)
And this is the prelude to her story as told in Shayla's folktales. I hope you enjoyed!
(Yes she's a bug. I'm a nerd)