Winter POV
I'm running in wolf form, as fast as my little legs can carry me, grateful for the speed that I possess. The trees pass by in a blur and I easily jump over broken twigs and branches. I have to keep going, I can't afford to stop. Not now.
Keep running Winter Sabriel tells me urgently and I continue to do so, my nose picking up a horrid scent of rotten eggs and meat, wrinkling my nose in disgust. The scent is overwhelmingly familiar and I begin to feel slightly panicked as I start to run even faster.
How close is the rogue?
He's gaining on us fast Winter. I don't think we're going to outrun it. We're going to have to turn and fight.
But I haven't practiced much, Sabriel, I don't know if we can take them. I don't know how to fight!
We have no choice, Winter, now turn around
