Continued from here! @barkbrain
It’s not a hard strike with that makeshift knife, just enough to pierce the mud and whatever flesh might be underneath it. Nothing fatal in the slightest, and deliberately so. The good doctor had been proven to be tumultuous in his moods, being brave and confident in one moment -- sniveling and defeated the next. There never had been any rhyme nor reason to any of it, and most of it is probably due to the nasty illness that courses through all of them. After all of this time of harassing her, preying on her, she’s come to know him well; pain is a good catalyst for this.
Yet again, here she is scrambling through slick mud to get away from him.
She’s not well off either, and she knows this. Hunger makes her stomach burn and joints shaky, fire courses through her head -- a fever that she can’t tell if it’s from both of their lasting conditions or something new invading her body. The threat of the doctor made everything snap into focus, though, and like all the times before she feels more aware than ever.
A barn looms in front of her -- one that looks vaguely familiar, with a sectioned off area and a thick door that even he probably couldn’t even bust through, even in its decrepit state. Maybe she can hide, maybe she can trap him...
All she knows is that right now, she doesn’t have the strength to run far.
But maybe she can outmaneuver him. All it takes is forcing every iota of her willpower to make her body move; regardless of whatever reaction the doctor ends up having to her attack.
