They moved forward faster than she could see, and as she turned her gaze to follow the movement they hit her hard in the back of the head.

The world splintered, shattered, and put itself together spinning and sharp at the edges. Orfeus ran forward and her legs folded under her so she fell to the ground. Kicked in the knees? Her mind spun.

Hands dug into her back again, and the Wolf wouldn’t be put off with a cloak this time. Their claws cut through her fine cream shirt and tore into her skin, and their other hand fisted in her hair and dragged her up.

It was painful and humiliating. Orfeus jerked around, claws digging into her back, her scalp on fire, and she flared out her fingers and sent out as much electricity as she could. No time left for caution.

Her Blood sent her a warning, which manifested as a slight tickle in the arch of her right foot. But the Wolf staggered back a step, releasing her. The energy fizzed uselessly off their armour without reaching their flesh or nerves or anything of use, but their tasegun sparked and sputtered.

They drew it from their belt and threw it to the ground. Orfeus tensed, ready for them to draw that light-knife.

They punched her instead, once in the throat and then twice in the stomach. She doubled over coughing and they hit her again, crisply, on the head.

Somehow Orfeus was on the ground again, mind spinning. She dug her fingers into the dirt to ground herself. The same old familiar scents of Tinctora, plants never far away, the distant smell of water. But there was mud in her nostrils and her chest felt torn. She vomited onto the dirt.

She waited for the boot in her ribs or the cut of the knife. Instead there was a sharp tug at her hands, and with her body this floaty and unresponsive, she just laid there and allowed it. Something cold pressed against her wrists.

The Wolf was binding her hands.

Something niggled at her, a persistent twitch. Orfeus lay dreamily still and allowed herself to pay attention to it. Her head ached in a way that boded trouble, and breathing made something in her feel torn. The Wolf had certainly used destructive methods. But they hadn’t yet used any lethal ones.

The ties on her wrists felt tough but not secured yet. Orfeus sent out another burst of electricity, and at the same moment as her bonds loosened the arch of her foot gave a warning jolt of pain.

“Yes, I know,” Orfeus told it, rolling away. She cleared her throat, because her words came out clotted, and said as clearly as she could, “Energy.”