Training Teresa

[Trillian]

*awaits Morwen\'s reply*  >.>

[Morwen]

((oops! Sorry, I was waiting for you, since Teresa doesn\'t really have much to do...))

Teresa used the knife in her hand to cut off the thick fur coat; it was useless at this point anyway and tangled so that she could not simply slip it off even her own meagre frame. The blade wasn\'t perfectly sharp, and obviously covered in nicks, as it caught even on the smooth fur fibres. Chunks of expensive stock fell to the floor ignored, until the girl was free of her fashionable bindings. Looking up, she saw Ridley jump over the prone door and through its erstwhile frame, presumably to attack the guard.

A wash of relief and gratitude flowed through the little thief\'s mind. Naturally naive and trusting, she assumed that her teacher had attacked the guard to protect her, like someone in a fairy-tale might. Forcing her disobedient legs into movement, Teresa did her best sprint across the two metres between her and the doorway; that guard was brutal, Ridley might need help.

[Trillian]

[ooc]  Ha ha, started to think we were waiting for each other  XD [/ooc]


Fingers grazed at the ankle of his booted feet, and Ridley\'s heart (already pounding a tattoo in his ears) seemed to want to explode from his chest.  He managed to get his other foot beneath him on the counter near the guard\'s head and he pushed off it, but not before the edge of the guard\'s sharp sword sliced into his other leg.

Ridley barely felt it, he believed it to be a light touch, perhaps a last minute effort to hold onto him.  Adrenalin pumped through his veins as he sprinted for the door and then out into the alley, jumping up onto a barrel and skirting up the side of a tudor building, using the decorative and supporting planks of wood to help himself straight up onto the roof.  He stepped into something wet.

It was on the top of this building that he looked down, to see what was squelching beneath his feet, to find his entire leg covered in blood from the knee down.  Shocked and confused as to what had happened, he looked back down where he\'d come from to see a pointedly obvious trail of blood coming from out of the shop doorway and all up the wall, telltaling where he\'d gone.

He couldn\'t lose much more blood or he would pass out and die up here.  Unwrapping material from the top of his boots (which he bandaged on for a better fit due to the fact they were stolen from a nobleman with slightly bigger feet than his own) he applied pressure to the wound, staunching the flow before moving off across the rooves, pleased that there was less blood trailing him now, but frightened of the light-headed feeling he was getting, and the fact that every step now felt like a knifewould driving home into the same place where he\'d been slashed.

At no point did he consider Teresa, though he would think of her later - for she had his name.

[Existentially Odd]

The wild reaching had dire consequences for Mac - although he scored a successful stab into the thief\'s leg, the angle was awkward and forced his wrist to turn even more painfully once he connected.  The guard cried out - a guttural exclamation of pain and rage, knowing his body was still recovering from being thrown down and now the arm still wrapped in fur was wrenched beyond immediate use.  He was forced to drop that sword too as his right instinctively set about scrabbling the fur coat the hell off him once and for all.

He sat up to aid his progress so that he might be free for when the other thief exited but he was likely too late - the searing pain in his left arm had him thoroughly distracted and he wasn\'t moving nearly as quickly as he thought he was with his free hand - she was nimble and free; he was still entwined in fur with quite a lot of pain yabbering furiously through his brain.  He wasn\'t even looking up at the door any more, so intent was he on reefing the coat away - his shoulders swung wildly left and right (as much as his throbbing arm would allow) in a tantrum-like effort to just be rid of his restrictions, another roar spilling from his lips while he did.

[Morwen]

Teresa was halfway out of the shop when she heard the guard yell. She caught herself from turning to see what was happening, and instead forced her legs out the door. The trail of blood revealed clearly where Ridley had gone, without her. The thief\'s face flushed, though whether from anger at being abandoned, worry about whether Ridley was even alive, or fear of being captured, she was too distracted to know.

Shaking off the inhibiting feelings, she followed the trail of blood. She had to help him, he obviously could not survive long loosing that much blood. Darting to the building the crimson path led to, without regard for what might be coming on either side, Teresa tried to climb up the bloody wall. She managed to get on the barrel, but she could not reach any of the overhangs that would allow her to climb up to the roof.

Growling in anger at her thwarted efforts, Teresa gave up. By now Ridley was either dead or away, and in either case there was nothing she could do. It was against every part of her nature to leave the thief, but she knew that there was no way she could climb. Guiltily, she hopped off the barrel, and began running away from the trail of blood. She tried to tell herself that as soon as she found a way up, she would climb to where she might find Ridley, but in truth, she knew she couldn\'t.

Tears tried to force their way out of her eyes, and Teresa fought to blink them back. She had to find Ara...