A/N: I am a crazy little antelope who just thinks of this stuff in my head while I am in school. Reading is good. I don't care if you review because I am writing this for pleasure, not exposure. But if you would like to review, please do, by all means!

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The Wheel of Time

Running, running so fast my heart could not catch up to the pace. I darted up a tree to the highest branch that would hold me. Barks grew in the distance. Fear grew in me for I was being pursued by massive hounds of evil fortune. I looked back for so much of glimpse of my hunters. Black figures came rushing down a hill; their horrific howls rising. I closed my eyes and whispered a soft prayer of mercy.

The barking stopped. I heard howls of agony. Opening my eyes, I saw mounds of black lying in heaps athwart the ground. A man stood before the ghastly muddle of dark, oozing blood. He turned, looking at me in the tree. It was him.

Suddenly, I felt ridiculous. I quickly climbed down from the tree and smoothed out my skirts. I hated wearing them. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. I was swallowed by bliss as he embraced me. I could stand there forever.

He jerked away, looking in the distance. His face seemed to be made of stone. A sword wielded by fire appeared in his hands. "They're coming!" he yelled in fear. Rapidly, trollocs came rushing towards us. "Get back! If you run now, they won't be able to find you." The hand gripping mine slipped away as he ran forward. He looked back sorrowfully but continued running.

A clash of anger and fear grew in me. "No!" I yelled after him. Running as fast as I could, I caught up to him and drew his sword out of its scabbard. He gave me a perplexed look. "I will not leave you, again." I told him firmly. We ran on; the trollocs growing closer at ever step.

Slicing and swishing through the onslaught of shadowspawn, my sword slaughtered any trolloc that came into range. Suddenly, every trolloc around shrieked in pain and fell to the ground. It was he. I looked around for him and found him clutching his side in anguish. I ran to him. I helped him to the ground. Running to my saddlebags, I found an ointment in one of the pockets and took it to him. Carefully I spread it across the unhealed wound. He gasped in pain. I cooed to him softly. He looked up at me and smiled. It was the reminiscent of flying.

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A/N: Again I remind you that this was just something I thought up at school. (Actually, I was in History, writing essays.) Hopefully it was comprehensible and not a bit reprehensible. (Don't you love Chicago!?)

~annapooh~