The Revenge Strike - Part 3

It wasn't long before she picked the three of them off, and then the man with the reins was forced to turn to her, his purple plume dancing madly from the speed that they rode at. His mouth was wide open, and he was breathing heavily. He had to make a choice – handle the reins, or handle his half-moon blade. He decided in neither direction, instead going for a mix between the two. With one hand on the reins, he attempted to follow the flight of the rapier that came for him, only to be scored across the neck by its sharp claw.

His lack of commitment had cost him. Blackthorn wasn't a woman that could be dealt with in such half-hearted measures.