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Legolas
With his mind focesed completely on catching Sorsha and thrwing her into the lake, the otherwise surefooted elf, weighed down by his drenched clothes, stumbles through the mud, slipping on more than one occasion. He doesn't care though. He hasn't felt so untroubled since before he had cause to seek out his friend Durlan.
Momentarily distracted by the rain and water from the lake dripping down his back, he looses his footing and falls face-first into another murky puddle. He quickly gets up into a half-croutch, and peers at Sorsha as he wipes his hair from his eyes with a muddy hand. It's no longer bound back, but rather plastered to his face with mud and water.
He suddenly realises there are two babbling voices, where at first he thought there was only Sorsha's. As soon as the thought surfaces, he lets it sink downward once more. It didn't matter. She couldn't evade him forever, and then he'd have the satisfaction of seeing justice done, of throwing her into the water.
Grinning, he dashes towards her again, nearly tripping over some low brush as he once more tries to close the distance.
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