Crown of Thorns: The Snare and the Knight

A loop of cruel gardener's twine—left carelessly by a human hand, barbed and unyielding—snapped around Rosy's hind leg mid-stride. She tumbled head-over-tail, the world spinning in a dizzy whirl of sky and grass, her stomach lurching as momentum betrayed her. Suddenly, she hung upside-down in the snare, blood rushing to her ears in a roaring tide, the silver brooch dangling wildly from its ribbon like a pendulum marking her doom. The twine bit into her fur, a sharp pain that matched the panic clawing at her chest.