The hounds bay on my trail, they are hunting me. They are hunting me as one would a stag. “Let us make a game of it, chase the Maiden of the Wood, eh, King* of The Chase?” I ran, my lean body like a blur, shadowy on the forest floor. I knew every stick, every stone in my domain so I thought as I ran. I thought, not of the impending death I was surely facing, but of the old days, when I had ran together with the King. Normally such thought would fill me with anger, but now, as I ran for my life, they filled me with such sadness. I saw the hounds now, behind me, and the nobles. Nobles! They were noble before that.... Ay-ayyay! I felt as if I was stung, for I saw in their faces the same features, the same shape, but they who had before only looked upon me so kindly, now laughed at my fear. Suddenly I put on a burst of speed.. I noticed, as if for the first time, that it was autumn. Maybe the leaves would cover my body before they found it. For I would not submit. I would die running before I would let him kill me. For they would surely give the greatest one the honor of making the killing blow. And then the hunters drew nearer and I ran faster and and my breath quickened and my legs ached beyond belief and I ran and I called to their leering faces “But you were not always so, Jason!”... and then I fell and my heart stopped beating.
* I belive the voice expression I was trying to convey with italics is best dscribed as "spat out in icy contempt, sarcastically, her face contorted"
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