The mare. She had just dropped. The edge of the cliff. It had just crumbled under her feet. Res had shot backwards, clenching on tightly to the piece of a branch with edges sharp enough to be a makeshift dagger. She wasn't going to stumble off the cliff. It was then, really, that she truly began to feel the effects of the talons upon her skin. The way that it throbbed with each beat of her heart. The way that it caused her movements to be short, and stiff. The slice cutting against her wither and into her shoulder, almost making each step a limp.

Tears were flooding her eyes again. But, whether it was from the pain that was now coursing through her veins, the emotional state she was in from Rowan's death, or her pleas to see Quil again she did not know. She just knew she suddenly felt alone. Each step was hindered, and her audit was spinning ferociously trying to take in every sound and place exactly where it was. But, of course, she couldn't accomplish that. So, she simply hoped that the stirred up mists would provide her enough shelter to trek deeper into the woods and away from where all the sparring was. She couldn't fight anymore. The injury was beginning to bother her. But that didn't matter. She just needed to keep moving.

Keep moving? Hah. The world didn't agree with that. Her right flint knocks into a huge branch that had fallen (probably from some storm in the past, but Res couldn't be sure) and with her weak muscles unable to balance on her left side the mare stumbles forward, collapsing on her face before allowing the rest of her frame to drop down as well. Completely shrouded in the mists she lay there, frame trembling uncontrollably as she shifted the wood dagger in her mouth. Please don't let anything come for me. Please... she begged to the Gods. I can't fight. I know it.

It took her a few moments, and definitely a few attempts, before she managed to figure out how to bear her weight on her front end to rock her way back to all fours. And then, she continued to struggle to move forward. Away from the noise. That's all that she wanted. The noise to stop. To find peace. The mists were no longer peaceful. They were dangerous. They were lurking with venom. They were lurking with the venom of the other herd coming to attack her home. And it sickened her. It sickened her so much.

And goodness. She should really put some herbs on her wound. But, the Healer's meeting she had gone to was way too hazy in her skull. Herbs. She needed herbs. But she couldn't remember what kind - what they looked like. She could grab the wrong one and kill herself. No. She had to live to push Rowan's memory on further. So, she was going to have to wait until she could find Smoke. If that was even possible.

Finally, she found herself falling into a section of overly protected trees. A mini grove of sorts, though she doubted it was intentional. Still, she shrugged her way in, letting out a tiny yelp of pain through clenched teeth as the bark scratched up against her still bleeding wound. It was difficult to enter, unless you were small, or you came from above. And even then it was more of a hassle than something someone would randomly do. So, she assumed she would be safe for the time being. The mists were less evident here, and she could see the ground (even if it was a little foggy). And, when she looked up the tree's towered way up, blocking out much of the moon in their canopy of branches.

The tears. They wouldn't stop falling. She sobbed, her voice muffled because of the dagger-like branch located in her maw. She wouldn't let go of it. It was her safety net for the moment. It was the only thing she could think of to protect her. Sticks and stones. Sticks and stones. That's all that she had. She was alone. She was broken. And everyone she cared about was off fighting to make sure that the Edge kept their home. What was she doing? She barely did any damage to one of the attackers, and then she ran off to hide in this random little grove of trees! She was useless, again. She was becoming the exact thing she didn't want to become. She had forgotten the little bit of healing she had started to learn before the invasion because of the shock and stress. And she was useless. Useless, laying there with a branch in her mouth for her to use like a horn to slice and dice anyone who approached.

She was scared. She was stressed. She was definitely depressed. She wasn't herself. She wasn't in a right frame of mind. And (in her raging mind) she was completely and totally alone.

850 words
Poor baby definitely having a mental breakdown from the pain and experience.
@[Kahlua] && @[Quilyan] && anyone else if they wanna join after these two