He broke into a run as soon as the elf was over one shoulder. “Hold on to…something!”, he added as he stretched his long legs to get as much speed as he could. The figures of several archers and crossbowmen came streaming out of the woods, along with several runners that began to give chase to the Templar and his rather vocal burden.
“What would you rather have me do? Throw you into the muck?”, Aurin shot back with a grunt as he tried to lengthen his stride. “Leave you here so you can look like a pincushion in the morning? I’m sure that might improve your disposition.”
He continued to run, feeling a second arrow glance of his armor and then a third. “They really hate you don’t they?”, he huffed as he ran. “Just wait till they get to know you.”, he paused. “Then they’ll REALLY want to kill you.” At he moment he knows that he did.
He would have followed it up with a different comment, but quite suddenly he found himself very difficult to breathe. “Urrgh!”, he groaned as he suddenly found an arm around his neck. “I…didn’t…I didn’t mean hold onto my neck! Can’t….breathe!”, he nearly threw her off right there and might just have if his unbalanced steps hadn’t sent him careening into a tree. He bounced off with a ring of metal as he reached up to try to pry her arm away from his throat.
“I’m running as fast as I can with some woman who is trying to throttle me!”, he coughs out as he stumbles on. He didn’t even want to look behind him at just what might be going on. The sudden fact that the woman in his arms is now cowering and not yelling at him bodes ill. Very ill.
The man with the crossbow aimed slowly and then fired. Aurin /knew/ that sound. He ducked his head, as he prayed to the Maker that bolt would miss. It hissed through the air towards the speeding form of the running Templar, angled slightly downward as it cut its way towards him…
…and Aurin leapt just as the bolt was about to strike, over a fallen tree.
The bolt sliced a line through the chain mail on his arse, cutting a line down his backside and drawing a startled yelp from the Templar. He nearly fell, but after stumbling and slamming his free shoulder on a second tree and rebounding quickly he kept his feet under him.
“This is all your fault!”, he called as he managed to stumble over a ridge and put enough trees between him and the shooters that he would be a harder target.