These shoes weren't meant for the swampland.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, the fluttering panic making it increasingly difficult to breathe. The bruises around her throat certainly didn't help.

Keep running, cher.

She limped forwards, tears blurring her vision as each step brought forth another wave of dizzying pain. Her ankle couldn't hold out for much longer...and neither would she.

He was closing the distance, and fast; she could hear him, calling out for her.

If she didn't know any better, she would've believed the concern lacing his words.

And she had, once upon a time.

Please, darling -

How had it come to this?