---

To his credit, Murphy often looked back to see that Brigitte was with him, though otherwise he and his dust-coloured steed were like one possessed mass of flesh plunging through vine and thicket. Cicadas pinged off nearby branches as they rode, hurdling logs and threading some tree-stands that made Brigitte's breath involuntarily pause as Giselle followed, glad to be running and unwilling to be outdone.

Once Murphy reached out and plucked another marker as he passed, placed higher than most humans would think to look for, and after a while they started to see bright blazes hacked into trees and the marks of other horses' passing. At last - Time as blurred as scenery in this place, the afternoon radiating heat and defying the European convention of minutes and hours for work or rest - they catch the sounds of heavy movement at an angle to their trail and Murphy leans his weight back to call a halt. The sounds are hefty enough to be the others and the horses at a slight distance, or something large closer to.

Murphy glances across to Brigitte, unsure if she's all right with the risk of calling out. It was possible Bowen had a horse now, too.
This message was last updated by the GM at 00:05, Sat 12 Dec 2020.

Brigitte tried to stay close as they made their way through the thicket with the incessant insects. She caught the look from Murphy and gave a shrug, what was in the bush to their right she did not know, but if it was one of those woolly creatures perhaps they would  be able to scare it off.


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Murphy settles back, but takes his pistol out before straightening to call out: "Halloa ahead! is that yourself, Daniels? Where're you goin'?"

A rider appears pushing through the acacia and warratah scrub up ahead, half-seen through the trees. The horse is a big bay, stumbling a little on the uneven ground as though tired or slightly lame.

Sally hears an Irishman call out from behind her as Brass limps as fast as he can muster the energy out to clearer ground, then a response from somewhere up ahead, muffled and shattered through shrilling cicada song:

"-ays he heard Cotton! -re --  --- -to?"

Sally is half-sure Bowen is barely beyond the horse's kicking range. Direction has re-attained its familiar blur with the resumed attention of the angel (or perhaps wandering into the range of attention paid to these others - that might have been Thomas Daniels' voice, up ahead), and there seems to be suggestions of sound and movement everywhere.

Murphy tilts his head back and squints. "What? Hold up, we'll come up on ye...hey! You ahead, declare yourself!"

He gets no further than that in his shouting when his horse gives a sharp snort and dances up, vocalising alarm as the stink hits the humans. Then all is noise and chaos as some great woolly thing bursts from the bushes, throwing its arms above its head.

*YAAAWWWEEE!*

"Goirt heck!" Murphy exclaims, firing at the creature almost from reflex. From the bellow that follows he likely hit, though it doesn't seem to slow the thing at all.

*AAAUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHRRRRRRAAAAGH!*

[[Brigitte, that'll be a Ride roll to keep your untrained horse under control near the scary thing - if you suceed you'll have the first action to fight or flee with.]]

Brigitte rose in her saddle as she heard the reply to Murphy's call, it might be what saved her from the thing that sprang at them. She tried to bring her horse to the left so the thing rolled past along the animals flank using its own momentum against it.


Brigitte d'Anjou rolled 29 using 1d100.  Ride =55%.



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Giselle responds instantly to the rein for lack of any other immediate ideas, channelling the brunt of the rush into the horse beside her. Murphy's beast staggers with the impact and rears up somewhat to kick out, hitting nothing whilst Murphy pales with pain and does his best to hold on. There are concerned shouts from the distance ahead, coming closer, and for a moment Sally glimpses a flash of military scarlet.

[[Sally Jane, here's your turn.]]

"Help" Sally whispered, not realizing that she did. She had kept quiet for so long that for a moment she had to try to remember how to shout.
"Hh..elp! Help me! HELP!"

She urged her horse on as best as she could, as panic washed over her. What had she done? She had given herself away! Now Bowen would find her and he would hang her next to the others, watch her skin and flesh start crawling with flies and maggots.

There was no way back now.

"HEEELLLPPP!"

Spurred by wounded rage or possibly the sounds of distress from the rider ahead, the creature siezes the horse before it and hurls the animal to the ground like a wooden toy. *RAAAGRRrr!*

Murphy's pale bay screams, shortly followed by Murphy, who'd barely cleared the saddle before impact. Brigitte sees blood bloom through his bandages as he struggles to push himself back without twisting the limb further. His horse struggles frantically to rise, desperate to have her legs planted where they ought to be and paying little heed to him as her master stretches out to try and draw his knife, watching the woolly creature consider the heap of them.

"Lig di a bheith!"

There's some unclear answering shout to Sally and she thinks she can hear someone running towards her from up in front as screaming explodes behind. The horse seems caught between the desire to flee that way and to turn and see the threat to the other horses he can hear. He snorts and skitters, shuddering. She can't see Bowen yet, but the smell of death is somewhere under the horse sweat and eucalyptus scent and she's still breathing it, shouting.


[[Brigitte, go!]]

Still mounted and unwounded Brigitte with draws the sword on her saddle from it scabbard it flashed dully in the sunshine. Bringing the spine of the blade up to her left ear she waited to see what the beasts next action was given that it had stopped momentarily. If it moves for Murphy she will spur her horse forward and attack.



-

Previously paused in its assault on Murphy's horse due to the Irishman's shouting, the creature turns at the flash of drawn steel and seems to recognise a thing held like a spear. It - she, by the long dugs now visible against her chest - bares big, horribly human-like teeth with thick canines and lurches towards Brigitte's horse to hurl her over the same way.

*Rrh! Rrh! Rrh!*

[[that's a DEX roll for Brigitte to attack in the small window before things get difficult around Giselle's head and neck. Giselle will also try to be Not Thrown, but Brigitte may wind up having to cling on or jump off if she can't deter the angry yowie presently]]

Brigitte tried to make an attack as the beast approached, but she fluffed it and heard the words of her old fencing instructor in her head "And with that Madam you have killed yourself with your carelessness and rushed actions...."


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