Tarn didn’t slow until the grasses had grown shorter and small scrub trees began to grew. The ground rose, forming the beginning of the foothills. He turned to look back, panting hard for a few moments. He recovered faster than Elsa thought possible. She was still wheezing a little from the fight and flight across the plain. She glanced down at her armor and saw that it was darkening where the spit had struck her. Without thinking, she reached down to wipe some of it off. It felt sticky and viscous at first, then a burning sensation erupted in her hand.
“ Oh shit,” Elsa muttered, staring at her hand.
Tarn glanced at her, then did a double take. “That was pretty fucking stupid,” He commented.
“ Hurts like hell too,” Elsa forced out through clenched teeth. The sensation was amplifying, her hand felt like it was one fire now. Any other feeling was gone. Her fingers were locked, contorted in agony that overrode every desire she had to move it. The pain moved quickly, climbing into her wrist and forearm. The pain overwhelmed her and made thoughts of moving her hand impossible even though the fingers now hung limp.
“ Don’t know if this is gonna kill you or not,” Tarn said, shaking his head. “But I ain’t touching you with that shit on your armor.”
“ Take. It. Off!”
Tarn muttered something as he stalked towards her. He reached for the releases on her armor and activated them with a familiarity that she would have found alarming if only she could have cared. He stopped, grabbing her rifle and wrenching her broken arm harsh enough that she almost noticed it through the pain that was climbing up her other arm.
She watched as Tarn fired multiple blasts from her rifle, but by the time she was able to turn and see the result of his sharp shooting her vision was becoming blurry. She thought she counted the bodies of three or perhaps four more of the drones. Tarn tucked the gun between his knees and worked the releases on her armor. It fell free, unbalancing her just enough to make her fall.
Tarn stared down at her for a moment, then took the gun in his right hand. He shook his head and muttered something else. She assumed he was muttering because nothing he said seemed to make sense anymore. He bent down and scooped her up in one arm, then hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
Elsa stared at the sweat on his muscled back until it began to grow dark. She didn’t think the sun was setting this early, but under any other circumstances spending time this close to Tarn at night could be quite an experience. She realized the burning sensation had faded. It was just a background warmth that permeated her entire body. It soothed and relaxed her, making her feel that everything would be okay.
“ If I wake up with a sore ass you’re in a lot of trouble!” Elsa muttered. It sounded funny to her, at least. She didn’t have the energy left to follow it with a giggle. She hoped he knew she was just kidding. Well sort of. He wouldn’t do that to her, would he?
“ Hang on,” Tarn said, “There’s more coming. I can’t lead ‘em back to Treetown so this might get a little rough.”
Elsa thought she heard him but she really didn’t care. He could take her anywhere and she’d be fine with it. His strong body felt so reassuring and she knew he would take care of her. She tried to moan out a response but she wasn’t sure it made any sense. Her eyes closed a moment later and even the nearly ten foot drop off of a small cliff a moment later failed to rouse her.