Sable picked her way down the stands in the setting sun, pausing every so often to squat behind chairs and observe her surroundings. She didn't want any more surprises. But the sun moved faster than Sable had anticipated, and the dark was setting in quickly. She had to find the entrance to the tunnels. It was her only real chance at a spot to hide, to rest.
She had nearly reached the bottom of the stands when she heard the slithering. She whipped her head to toward the sound, and saw a dark green, rope-like creature, contrasted against the light rock of the ruins, squiggle its way along the dusty stands, far enough away but headed directly toward her. It was a snake. A muttation, certainly, but what kind of muttation? Could she fight it? Did she have to run?
A new sound came from behind her, and she turned again, trying to keep her eyes on the snake at the same time as she watched the tribute to her other side, seemingly equidistant from the mutt. It was Lyra. Oh Snow, this was how she died. A choice between death by tribute, or death by whatever this snake was capable of. But the known was better than the unknown, and Sable found herself running toward the vicious Career, away from the snake.
"Mutt!" she called out, in warning, or explanation, or a desperate plea to maybe not kill her, but help instead?
@lyra-kolb
