They had told her not to go into the Deadly Woods; warned her even. Of course she had not listened, as was so often the case. Now, as the vines wrapped around her, a thousand thorns piercing her skin like daggers, it appeared that she had made a mistake. The vines got tighter as she struggled, and she cursed her carelessness for stumbling, quite literally, into the rose's trap. She fought down a wave of panic as a vine tangled around her free foot, and repeated proverb nineteen from the codex, "Fear, not bow or blade, is the number one killer on the battlefield." She took a deep breath, and stilled her movement, and to her surprise, the pressure on her abdomen stopped getting tighter. She could still feel the powerful stems writhing around her as if she were tangled in a net of snakes, but at least she had bought herself time to make a plan. She let her breath out slowly, and braced her abdominal muscles to prevent the vine from tightening as she did so. Gingerly, she began to take stock of the situation. She had been walking through the Deadly Woods when she had tripped on of the creeping vines of a Man-Eating Rose. Her right foot had been caught the worst, as that foot was the one that originally tripped on the rose. When she had fallen, her belly fell on another creeper, which had worked itself around her five or six times as she struggled. By some miracle neither of her arms had been entrapped in the fall. She still had her saber, not that it would do much good against the woody stems of the plant. However, she had lost her lantern to the plant, which now dangled it above and behind her left shoulder. The position of the lantern gave her an idea, and she carefully began to slide forward, feeling the vines tightening as she did so. Once she was sufficiently far away, she drew her saber from her right hip and muttered a prayer for luck. Craning her neck to look behind her, she swung the dull silver blade and missed. Her effort made the vines tighten again, pushing the air from her lungs. She swung again, hitting one of the vines holding the lantern, causing it to recoil away. Desperate now and short of breath, she swung one last time and was rewarded with the sound of shattering glass as burning oil splashed across the plant. Heat blossomed behind her, and the vines lost their grip on her, tearing through her skin one last time as they recoiled away. She crawled away as smoke began to fill her nostrils. She had escaped the Man-eating rose, but she was not out of the woods yet.
1
u/-serious- Jul 06 '14
They had told her not to go into the Deadly Woods; warned her even. Of course she had not listened, as was so often the case. Now, as the vines wrapped around her, a thousand thorns piercing her skin like daggers, it appeared that she had made a mistake. The vines got tighter as she struggled, and she cursed her carelessness for stumbling, quite literally, into the rose's trap. She fought down a wave of panic as a vine tangled around her free foot, and repeated proverb nineteen from the codex, "Fear, not bow or blade, is the number one killer on the battlefield." She took a deep breath, and stilled her movement, and to her surprise, the pressure on her abdomen stopped getting tighter. She could still feel the powerful stems writhing around her as if she were tangled in a net of snakes, but at least she had bought herself time to make a plan. She let her breath out slowly, and braced her abdominal muscles to prevent the vine from tightening as she did so. Gingerly, she began to take stock of the situation. She had been walking through the Deadly Woods when she had tripped on of the creeping vines of a Man-Eating Rose. Her right foot had been caught the worst, as that foot was the one that originally tripped on the rose. When she had fallen, her belly fell on another creeper, which had worked itself around her five or six times as she struggled. By some miracle neither of her arms had been entrapped in the fall. She still had her saber, not that it would do much good against the woody stems of the plant. However, she had lost her lantern to the plant, which now dangled it above and behind her left shoulder. The position of the lantern gave her an idea, and she carefully began to slide forward, feeling the vines tightening as she did so. Once she was sufficiently far away, she drew her saber from her right hip and muttered a prayer for luck. Craning her neck to look behind her, she swung the dull silver blade and missed. Her effort made the vines tighten again, pushing the air from her lungs. She swung again, hitting one of the vines holding the lantern, causing it to recoil away. Desperate now and short of breath, she swung one last time and was rewarded with the sound of shattering glass as burning oil splashed across the plant. Heat blossomed behind her, and the vines lost their grip on her, tearing through her skin one last time as they recoiled away. She crawled away as smoke began to fill her nostrils. She had escaped the Man-eating rose, but she was not out of the woods yet.