Well, so much for flight. A fearful yelp bursts out of Carine as the hungry creature grabs her leg, followed shortly by a shriek, pained and panicked when he (it?) tears into her calf. She barely hears the scream of another, coming from somewhere below. None of this feels real, except the pain. The only thing that keeps her conscious is the welcome prodding from her sympathetic nervous system, now on high alert. Even her own voice sounds distant and hollow as she attempts to plead with the entity, tears rolling down her cheeks. No! PleaseĀ… Please don't kill me!

And then, just then, the predator does, in fact, let go of her. She doesn't think. Thinking takes time. Thinking hurts. Some primal awareness takes over and she rolls onto her back with a grunt and rising into a crouch of sorts, tightens her grip on the handle of the spade. If flight is not an option, then fight it has to be. Pulling her good leg under herself for use as a spring, she snaps forward in a desperate attempt to smack him in the chest.

Spoiler: Carine
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Blood tokens: 4/5
Item: folding spade (equipped)
Other belongings: white one-shoulder T-shirt, light gray high ankle skinny jeans (now torn), flat thong sandals