Our Separate Ways (Rewritten)

Chapter Two: Under a Swift Sunrise

River

From running, to walking, to standing confused in an oddly familiar patch of rocky terrain. I've just walked in a circle... again. Honestly, I haven't exactly been paying the best attention to my surroundings, and I am entitled to that. Kira falling will forever be an image seared into my mind. Every fiber of my being wants her to be alive, to be making corny jokes, to be trailing behind me munching on something sweet... It hasn't quite dawned on me that she's gone yet, and I'm fine with staring off into nowhere telling myself it's not real. 

But I have to figure out where I am. I know I'm in a mountainous area. A red sun peeps above the horizon tainting the world pink. With this new light I can not only see how dreadful I look, but I can see the forest of nightmares is three or so miles at my back, and ahead there lies large stone formations. 

Under more normal circumstances I would first try to remember how I got here. A tickle in the back of my mind reminds me that though I've tried to recall all previous events, there is a large blur of time which has been forgotten. Question two, therefore, is where am I?  My only landmark is a river about a mile back. After I deemed it safe enough to stop running I stumbled upon that beauty and dove straight in. Never mind that I was still clothed, never mind that bacteria could infect the many wounds that decorated my body. Water was a godsend. 

"Of all the things I could have been stranded in the woods with..." Screw this. I shouldn't sit down, but it isn't in my nature to turn to reason when frustrated. I sit my backside right down on top of a weather worn boulder. Of all the things... Time to evaluate with some light. With the sun now fully visible it is easier to address wounds and peek through what I've got on me. I take a moment to flip off the happy yellow sun. 

"My friend just died you- you.. you... Go suck a cactus!" When finished bullying the sun I propped my legs up to assess. It was easy to roll up the flowy breeches I had discovered myself wearing. They were ripped and worn enough that they didn't get stuck to any blood. Scrapes, bruises, a small puncture would from who knows what... Nothing that wouldn't be gone within a week. My sleeves were a problem though. My left arm and side were crusted with blood and grime. I thought the sting had been a running stitch but I see- and feel- now that mere stinging was a gift from the fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins. Whatever this was it was bad. 

Agonizingly, I rolled up my shirt and squeezed the remaining river water onto the gash. It took some cautious picking but soon enough I could see the actual wound. The bloody water trickled down my ribs and stained what was left of the ripped away hem. 

An arrow. There was an arrow in my side. I sat and stared at it rather dumbly. There was a metal arrowhead lodged in my flesh, just out of reach. Certification in first aid does nothing for me in this situation. How do I remove an arrowhead?! The shaft is gone, I probably broke it when I ran into trees or went swimming. 

In a lightning fast series of events I thought three things. One: There is someone behind me. I heard the light footfalls on dead leaves. Two: This Someone might be able to help me. Three: This someone might kill me. 

"Unless you're going to help me remove an arrowhead from my ribcage I suggest you stay the hell away from me." To make my point extra clear I fumbled around for a rock and hurled it in the direction I heard the noise come from. I was in too much pain to do anything else. Twisting around to look would have been excruciating. 

"Perhaps you would defend yourself more efficiently, My Lady, if you would throw the weapon in the right direction." He comes into view... from the opposite direction. Tall, worn, broad, heavily armed... stronger than me. If he truly is a threat I won't be able to claw and bite my way out of this one. Not in this condition. My fury and despair would empower me to do him harm but the tiny logical part of my brain makes sure I understand. A fight with this man wouldn't last very long.