" When I reached the end of the patch of forest I was ready to run out into the bright sunshine--but before I’d passed the last tree I saw a line of riders racing across a distant field.
Ducking instinctively behind the tree, I peered over a branch, shading my eyes against the glare of the sun, and saw that they rode in two-by-two formation, and that they were not following any road.
Now, it might have been the riders had nothing to do with me, but I was not about to take that chance. As I looked out across the rolling terrain, I realized that they probably had me boxed in. They knew approximately where I was---that business the night before made it pretty clear--but not exactly. As for my part, I had to spot their perimeter…and cross it.
And get something to eat.
Without endangering any innocent people.
Standing there watching the diminishing formation, I was intensely aware of how alone I was--but it was not the same terrible, helpless feeling I’d had when I first discovered that I was a prisoner. Then I couldn’t walk and couldn’t get free. Now I was free, and I could walk, and as I remembered what Ara had said about that accursed Shevraeth and his abominable friend making sport of finding me, I got angry. There is nothing like good, honest, righteous anger to infuse a person with energy.
All right, I thought. Either I keep blundering about in all four directions, or else I locate these searchers--they have to be a limited number--and then move when and where they are least expecting it.
And so I turned my steps west and started stumping along in the direction the cross-country racers had gone. "

― Sherwood Smith , Crown Duel (Crown & Court, #1)