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Time had seemed to swirl around her, passing extrodinarily fast. No time had been lent to Eostre after the travel through the day, after the bit of conversation, after lunch, and now...
Darkness.
She had remembered a bit of panic at the start of the attack, remembered fumbling for her bow and falling into the trees, her horse momentarily panicking and then falling silent when she had slipped off of him... and in the midst of chaos, she couldn't remember what she had done, if anything.
All Eostre knew was now, there were wounded. There was blood on her tunic, she knew somewhere, sometime, she must've attacked someone, something. Her mind was a blur.
Mounting her horse with a wince (she became aware that somewhere she had tripped, her ankle twisting almost painfully; there was a deep gash on her cheek as well, and with the attempt to mount she recognized an arrow's hole through her garments. Where was I?
She gave herself a critical look, moving down the ridge to where she had last saw Sythric being chased by another Easterling...
Don't let anyone have died!
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