Heather
Escaping the Orphanage had been easy really. She had gone into the room, waited, opened a window and left with the canifor's cloak. Not difficult at all, and with the cloak on her person she was now able to hide her own deformities better. She felt as if the mass in her shoulder was growing and more than that, it was... Traveling. Rather protruding from her upper shoulder, it felt as if it were closer to her upper, middle back. Closer to her neck. 

A few days later now and she's collected her gear and begun traveling away from the city proper, down the roads leading along the coast. She had slept for a day solid, and the Oni had... Improved. Perhaps not gotten *Better* Exactly but improved to say the least. She wasn't sweating as badly, but had yet to wash to remove the sick stink from her clothes. Some color had returned, but not much. She looked... Well, like a vagrant, which she was. 

Her gait as she walked was, well, stumbling at best as her head was tilted downward towards the road she walked on. Odd birds, or bats? Fluttered above. She was aware through these creatures, these... Eyes that some ways back she'd gained a tail. Curious she had been observing them, pale eyes staring at nothing as she used her other ones to examine the situation. It made her look.. Well, drunk really as she wandered.
Wilma
The coastal road seemed pleasant that afternoon. Whatever beings coursed through the sky, their melody could soothe even the hardiest of folk about. Yet even with their serenade, even with the warm breeze that tickled Psyche's skin - she'd most probably be able to tell. Something was off. For a while, she could perhaps tell that eyes were set on her from the distance. Any attempt to observe the vicinity would be to no avail. If someone really was tracking her and this was no fruit of her imagination, they were good at their craft.

As she sauntered onward, the oni reached a path wrapped by trees. They were not enough in quantity to fully deflect the sunlight's gentle kiss, yet they cast various shadows onto the cobblestone road. A crown twitched, not so far ahead. The force with which it did was clearly not the works of a squirrel, nor any animal that usually inhabited the trees. It must have been another humanoid's work. And again, a twitch, this time from one across the original. If Psyche remained silent to try and discern the sound, she'd hear a completely different one.

*Trot, trot, trot...*
A galloping horse echoed from the distance. In no time the noise grew louder, clearly ringing from behind her. If she turned, she'd spot a black creature with its rider - just as dark. The cloak's he wore, its nuance... It felt familiar. Once the passerby got close enough, he outstretched a hand towards her. The furious winds battling his charge launched his hood off, revealing his identity. It was the same elf, the one she had crossed paths with in the orphanage not so long ago. Leaning forth to build momentum and sideways to reach better, Lucien was clearly trying to pick her up.

**Zoom!**

An arrow's lethal buzz called from the ground beneath her. A shot had missed her, barely, landing by her foot. If she checked the tree that had warranted her suspicion earlier, a bow protruded from the green leaves. Without delay, another shaft reflected the sun's radiance, hinting that the archer was reloading. Lucien was close to Psyche, very close, by that point. Was this sudden attack the reason he offered to hoist her onto his mount?
Heather
Overhead the 'birds' flew, and through them Psyche continued to watch from odd sides and angles. She couldn't locate the one following her, but it had only served to increase her curiosity. She wanted to know what area they may be in roughly. Wondered why they were following her and what breadcrumb of events had lead to all of this. In her mind's eye, the one distracting her so terribly that her trail was meandering and confused, she thought she could see them. An eye, winged and swift, was zeroing in on something but she wasn't sure what yet.

Then there was the movement in the distance, ever closer that made her pause. Maybe she had misunderstood the direction it was coming from. But then she was certain she hadn't, and as her footsteps slowed she heard the soft trotting. Through the fog and haze of her eyes, and her *Eyes*, she could see a horse and the rider in a dark cloak. She began to walk again until they came close and outstretched their hand. Looking up she recognized the face, and mentally drew the connections to where she had seen it. Lucien could well recognize her perhaps; The Pale Oni walking from the back of the Orphanage.

She felt the air from the arrow and the connection from her eyes broke like a frail bit of string. Looking down she saw the arrow and followed it's rather direct path back to its shooter with her eyes. She didn't look shocked, or afraid, but had regardless found her mind working rapidly. Nothing felt real.

"***Time to go.***" A voice audibly whispers as she takes Lucien's hand with one of her own, other beginning to grip her bow. She used what strength she had to assist him in lifting her up; She was small, and didn't weight much at least.
Wilma
As soon as their hands clasped, clapping loudly as they did, she was yanked up with shocking strength - an intensity which someone slim should not be able to sport. With her help the process was made even easier. Lucien spun his body and placed a hand on her waist as she was midair. He twisted her body, helping her onto the space of the saddle right behind him. Thus, she was facing the other way with her bow prepared. The elf grasped the reins again, calming the mount before it went wild. He turned his head faintly so that he could be heard by her, even with the wind blowing in their ears.

*"I recognized you, from the orphanage. An odd bunch were tracking you, so I rushed by to help. I have no idea how many they are, but I saw at least three."*
It didn't take long for the two to exit the woods. Out in the open field they seemed to be the only ones for a while - until the enemy finally appeared. Two horse archers, each launching an arrow that landed besides them, emerged from the forest with matching speed. They continued unleashing a flurry of shots, one of which pierced into Lucien's shoulder. He grunted in response, yet didn't offer any further reaction. *"Keep them busy, but don't try anything stupid! They outnumber us greatly! We need to get rid of this open space!"*

Two more joined the enemy's party. They assumed a spread out formation, making it hard to hit them albeit not impossible. Suddenly, Psyche could feel her hips jerk from a sudden turn of the mount. *"Hold on tight, we're getting off the road!"* If the oni glimpsed at the direction they were headed towards, she'd notice a few houses in the distance - most in ruins and presumably abandoned. Another volley of arrows came their way, followed by one more after a pause. Being an archer, she could probably estimate how long the intervals between shots took.
*"This is no good! Judging by it, they'll have two more tries before we can get behind cover!"*
_ _

Lucien seemed quite adept at riding, zigzagging the incoming shafts skillfully. Yet judging by the lack of ranged attacks from him, he either lacked the ability or the conditions necessary to attack the enemy.
Heather
The Oni is up and moved, much like a doll and with as much resistance as one. Her apparent acceptance of the odd situation might have been concerning... If there wasn't someone shooting arrows out in the woods right now. He spoke as Psyche leaned back to secure and balance herself, her upper back pressing momentarily to his. Something shifted there. Then she prepares an arrow with several more held between her fingers, pale eyes focused behind them. She does speak, her own voice and tone different from the one that spoke earlier.

"We witnessed them briefly but could not track them well. It will be easier now."

She felt the arrow strike Lucien, felt herself shift when he did on reaction, and drew back the bowstring. A glow began to suffuse the bowstring from her hands, traveling down the length of it to the arrow. Lightning crackles. She thinks she recognizes one of them, but waits patiently until the few moments before the release of their arrows. As they're focusing, she lets go, aimed not at a rider but at the horse in front of the pack of them. Electricity sparks. With any luck, a downed horse would slow them down, or knock over another horse. All they really needed was space.

The next arrow was nocked down faster with the way she gripped them, the next shot now empowered but relying on the relative chaos she had caused with her last, electrifying shot. She had been preparing for a third until there's a sudden jerk of movement. "***Ah!***" Not as loud as a cry would typically be as Psyche adjusts herself instinctively, exhaling slowly and drawing her bow again. The uneven gait of the horse now disrupted her aim, but she was patient enough to keep going. "***Psyche, we believe a larger distraction is necessary.***"

She lowers the bow, lifting her hand to whistle. The three circling 'birds' swoop downward. Winged eyes, three of them, shoot towards the riders in a zigzag motion. None go for damage, but for blocking vision, startling, anything for an edge.
Wilma
Her arrow slammed into the leg of one of the mounts. Its sturdy build allowed it to press forward, yet an unexpected shift occurred. Its foot was paralyzed by the charge, forcing it to trip and roll over the ground. The rider cried out in a loud thump, most probably being out of commission for the chase. The fallen horse twirled towards one of the other pursuers. A skilled twist of its leads together with a slow down in tempo, however, allowed the man to avoid danger. Eventually he caught up to the rest, the three preparing another volley.

That is when the next diversion was thrown at them. The 'birds' that had plunged from the skies intruded the group's vision. Realizing that the fowls danced in unison and kept moving with them, the riders began targeting them instead - they knew those were sapient creatures, or at the very least controlled by one. Every now and then an arrow reached the two's vicinity, yet that didn't seem the be the most imminent threat. Lucien gritted his teeth as his eyes flared in a violet color.

*"This was a set up..."* He muttered in an aggravated manner. *"They knew that if we ran from archers in an open field, we'd look for the nearest cover!"* The elf reached for the weapon hanging by his stallion's side. If Psyche turned to see what the other was on about, she'd see the danger that loomed over them. Three riders, heavily equipped, were charging against them. Lances were pointed at them, held tightly by plate armed opponents.
_ _

An odd ring came from Lucien's blade as he began unleashing it. *"Keep those behind us distracted."* He explained to the other, his voice still holding the irritation from before. *"True, my powers are far from their peak under the sunlight. However..."* The familiar lavender aroma that he had emitted during the first time they met oozed off of him again. This time, however, the temperature around them dropped significantly. He outstretched his curved sword before an eruption burst from his hand. Flames of a penumbra, wrapped elegantly with a violet aura, ignited his hand and weapon.

Lucien pulled the reins to his left, forcing his ride to turn towards the outer pursuer. He grabbed his weapon with both hands and swung it out towards the legs of the horse. A war cry empowered his action, one which held a second voice beneath it. It was ghoulish and infernal in nature. As he finished his swinging motion, a trail of the same enigmatic fire tailed his sword in the form of an afterimage. It blasted out with a loud bang, zooming towards the opponent with shocking speeds. The other two managed to get out of its way, yet the target got caught in the impact. The horse grunted out loud from the blunt force of the impact. The armor protected its flesh from being severed, yet couldn't keep it standing. A loud clap announced its drop to the ground, along with its rider's.

The elf quickly sheathed his weapon. Instead of circling around, as the other two did, he ran right towards the rolling animal. Any sane person would avoid the moving obstacle, for it was too risky to take on directly. Nevertheless, he rushed right at it. Again, his body released the unnatural blaze. This time, two hands - not Lucien's original ones, spawned from his ribs and latched onto the lead. He used his original ones to grasp Psyche by her sides tightly. *"Hold on tight!"* The lancers quickly realized what he was up to and began turning their horses around. Yet it was too late.
_ _

With a rapid yank of the reins, the black steed lunged into the air. It jumped right over the rolling creature - the timing was on point. They landed safely albeit with great discomfort. Lucien grunted and forced the horse forward with more speed. He let go of the oni and focused on the uneven path ahead. *"Patience, patience..."* He whispered, talking to himself. *"Once we're in the buildings, you can go all out."* It was unclear who the elf was referring to.
Heather
The small Oni pulled back the bowstring as she felt one of her internal eyes go blind, snuffed out as one of the flying eyes took a fatal arrow. She flinched instinctively at it's last sight, and let an arrow fly again. This one found its home in one of their attackers as she dropped her last held arrow into place. Sparks traveled along her hands again as sweat began to spring from her brow, body unable to keep up with the demands of her 'friend' and the fight, but pushing on nonetheless. 

"***I think the one to the right. Take out the right leg and-***" "-And force the horse to follow into the others as well," She finished as she loosed the arrow, striking the next horse with a sparking, charged shot from her bow. No sooner had she loosed it than an arrow found its mark on her, burying itself in her ribs. Pain sparks, blooms and she grits her teeth. She was distantly aware of how stressful, of how *Upsetting* All of this really was but could only just feel the edges of it. Those edges rapidly smoothed over in response to the smell of flowers, causing her to take a deep, steadying breath in before reaching for the next arrow. She glances forward, then away as she keeps her eyes on the pursuers. One things at a time.

"I feel like I saw one of them once before," She says tonelessly, seeing the progress they've made to them as she had tried to ride the initial shock of the arrow out. Distracting riders? Well, easy enough. She decides to forgo her usual aiming for quick shots. She was accurate, scarily so, without her usual wind up but it didn't take much to hit horses. Perhaps between the birds and her shots, they would lose their gained ground.

She felt the grip of hands on her sides and inhaled through teeth, expression stained as fresh pain sparks, but hangs on. The young Oni feels the moment when they hit the air, and it feels like it lasts forever hanging on a dreadful, uneasy note; The horse beneath the steed, the attackers, the sounds of violence all make for a dreadful scene. Then they land, and reality jolts itself back into alignment. Psyche feels air force itself from her lungs, and that second voice coughs, nearly chokes, but she raises the bow again. 

The next shot goes for one of the lancers so long as they're so close, aiming for the exposed bits of flesh.