[CAN SEE YOU] sender (Hunter) uses Hunter’s Intuition to mark receiver (Rebel) with a light pillar in order to find them. Uh-oh. + [CHASE] sender (Hunter) chases receiver (Rebel) across the whole field to catch them. Haul those buttcheeks buddy!
⋆˙⟡ ——————— ⟡˙⋆
the fewer seconds that these rebels are caught, the sooner a new match begins - it brings something exhilarating to this game . . . a safe kind. no one is being chased by hilichurls or monsters of any sort, there isn't a crisis. it is merely a controlled game, where all is in good will. competitiveness may very. . .
boy, was Fischl going to win. she managed to mark someone in hiding - right in front of her! yet they immediately took off. it is no matter for the prinzessin.
“ thou would do well to simply allow capture! ” Fischl yells with a grin as she gains ground, “ no distance shall hinder me, o'rapid rebel! ”
Usually, before Citlali would get caught, she would cast an invisibility spell or something to mess with the senses of the hunter to make Citlali blend into the background. Mostly because she couldn't be bothered to run.
Reclined on Citlalin, sunk deep into the pillow, Citlali snuggles up with a book. Flowers for Princess Fischl has always been a good read, no matter how many times she finds herself cracking open the cover. She almost forgot that she was even playing a game.
Itzpapa hurridly pops out from the trees above, leaves gently falling onto Citlali's hair. Ah, a hunter is near. Ugh. Begrudingly, she sits up, preparing a spell. Though, at the sight of the spitting image of Princess Fischl, she freezes. I- what? Huh? Did I fall asleep? Is this a dream? Why is THE Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort, Prinzessin der Verurteilung, here???
Seeing Ozvaldo Hrafnavins rush towards her, she panics, hastily ordering Citlalin to fly her away through the trees. The distance between her and the hunter grow, but before she can sigh in relief, she is taken clean off Citlalin by a low hanging branch, letting out a yelp as she falls.
Clutching the red mark on her forhead, laying face up on the damp earth, she slowly opens her eyes to see Fischl looming over her head. Confused, dazed, and vanquished, she weakly says, "Sorry for running, Mein Fräulein..."
