Although Fiera had thoughtlessly issued a challenge to the Crown before she took off, it was not without the semblance of a vague strategy in her head. The Crown belonged to the House of Winds, which meant that the very air would submit to her presence. And Fiera didn't have to guess on her estimates, she assumed that the entire area covering the forest would be reporting to her. Running with a shield, slowed her down somewhat, and this was after she had somehow managed to strap it to her back, in case arrows came from there. She wasn't even sure if taking off before the announcement to take off was against her favour or not. So she would have to take that into consideration if this was declared void.

That would mean, that she would have to shield herself from being found out.

The only weapon in her arsenal that she knew would resist detection by the air, was her mother's legacy. Blood magic. She usually tried her best not to rely on it, because Blood Magic was addictive, and for her, the addiction was not in a good way. Since everything was fair game, in this so-called duel -

She couldn't finish that thought as she veered right smacking straight into a tree as a silver arrow swooshed past her, ripping the fabric at her shoulders. Okay, so the hunt had begun, and she could sense that the arrow had been led to her by the power of the winds. She crouched to her side, removing the long needle she always kept in her back pocket and grabbed the fallen arrow, before deciding to take off to the right, a bit further away from where she imagined the Crown to be.

She suppressed her aura, by the ancient series of strategic taps on her joints, but drawing for Blood Magic would require her to pause her run. She decided against climbing trees because the higher you climbed, the more the air saw you, and swooped into a thicket of bushes. The snow from the ground was mixed with the soil, forming a wet mush, and it stuck on her clothes. Frustrated, she drew the long needle and tapped the arrow with it, making a small cut to her forefinger making certain mini-actions.

This would be to track the Crown down because she didn't trust her sense of direction very much. But before she could let the spell linger, an arrow swooped at her, hitting the shield that was strapped at her back. This meant, the Crown hadn't considered that she had the shield strapped behind her, as opposed to holding it to her front.

She switched directions, trying to remember the exact hand and shoulder movements for the insanely specific protection spell she needed. She briefly wondered how frustrating it probably was for the audience that was gathered, and stabbed the needle to her forearm, just as her foot stumbled over a particularly mushy spot and she knocked herself out to her knees. An arrow swooshed right where her head was a millisecond ago, and suddenly Fiera could hear nothing except the thumping for her heart and the blood running to her ears.

Aaron was right.

The weapons were meant to kill.

She continued on her spell work, neatly wiping the blood and shaping it to form the required letters. She felt a slight shudder as the blood sunk into her skin, and a sense of numbness gripped her hand. There was only one purpose to this spell. And that was to mask her scent from even the wind. For the spell to sustain, she paid the price in blood, and curled behind a tree, waiting to see, if an arrow would be able to find her. She would wait for the next three minutes, and then she would go for the kill.