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Guthrum saw the surrounding plants and trees twist and transform into something much darker and his opponent turn her back on him and walk away from him towards the pond where she had been playing when he found her. He heard her say something, but he paid no attention to what it was. A priest did not care for the bleating of the sacrificial lamb after all, and to Guthrum the girl was little more than that.
He felt the sensation of relief rush through his body. His opponent had forfeited a favourable position and the chance to strike first, and given him the opportunity to make the first move. He laughed to himself at Aun's folly. This would be the last mistake she ever made, he would see to that. She was the sacrificial lamb and he was the priest, and now he was going to let the dagger fall...
Guthrum clenched both hands tightly around the hilt of Gurthang and began his charge. His feet set into motion, first slowly because of the muck, but soon with a speed few would think possible for a man of his imposing stature. His weight and muscle propelled him forward over the necessary distance Aun's withdrawal had provided him, and now he was only a few feet away from her. With all the strength he could muster and with a fiercy warcry, he brought Gurthang down upon his her.
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