Nenaela Airdronac sat silent on the cold, slightly damp forest floor and watched the border of the forest. The place was forbidden, strictly enforced. Her parents would be furious if they knew just how close to the edge she was, but it wasn’t as if she was easy to follow or trace.
The Draka forest was a large place, with miles and miles of trees stretching from the ocean cliffs to the mountains that split the country and were inhabited by thousands of Draka- enormous wolves with elven intelligence. They were brutal warriors, and stuck to the tradition of only leaving the forest in times of the most desperate war. Unfortunately, even the most powerful of warriors had their weaknesses- and Nenaela knew all of theirs. It had become necessary to know when she reached the age of fighting. She had been up against opponents that were twice her size and were equipped with thick, protective fur, sharp fangs, and tearing claws. So she learned their weaknesses which made it easy to escape their careful watch.
She looked carefully at the weapons scattered along the edges of the forest, leftovers from the elves who dared enter and were slaughtered by the packs. Her bright blue eyes landed on one rusty fang-like weapon created by the strange elves and she lifted it. It was heavier than it looked! It was several times over the weight of a branch of the same size and was the length of her leg. There was a sharpness to it that was different from the rough teeth and claws of the Draka and one end had a not sharpened side that was the size of both her hands placed one over the other. She grabbed it by the sharp side and gasped in shock as it sliced into her. Such sharpness! She had barely put any pressure at all on it and it left a long, bleeding wound on her hand!
Nenaela hissed in pain and dug her not injured hand into the thick mud beneath her feet and slapped it onto the wound. “Earth,” She murmured in a soft, melodic voice. “Heal your child with your great might.” Then she brushed the mud off her hand and smiled at the flawless skin underneath. “My deepest thanks.” She flexed her now healed hand and looked carefully at the weapon that had done it to her. She picked it up again, but by the less sharp side and experimentally through the air, testing the weight and the speed. She could use it easily to stop the Draka from bullying her any longer if she could train her body to the weight. And if it were not against pack law to touch elven weapons.
“Beast!” A deep, roughened voice bellowed behind her and she dropped the weapon in shock and whirled. Directly behind her stood a great wolf, several head heights taller than her with a greyed muzzle and ashy black fur. His deep brown eyes bored into her blue ones with a very evident anger. Two orange stripes slid down his back, the fur a brilliant, fiery color from ears to tail. “What are you doing?”
Nenaela looked down at the sword then back up to the Pack Elder who caught her breaking the law before straightening her bony shoulders and meeting his eye. “I was learning.” She responded defiantly, her broad face twisting into a challenging scowl.
“You were breaking the law.”
“It is not as if I fit in the pack. I am not a Draka, that much has been clear since I was very young. So why is it so bad that I learn about the race that I am so clearly a part of?”
“Walk with me young one.” The ancient creature rumbled, starting along the edge at an angle towards their pack’s territory.
Nenaela watched him cautiously for a few small moments before grabbing onto a tree branch and swinging into the tree. She walked carefully from tree to tree on the branches, passing easily just above the Elder and yet staying far enough away that he was no threat.
“You are young, and so you do not yet understand. But it is time someone told you because your mother and father are not quite up to the task.
“We are a proud race, proud of our strength in fighting, proud of our traditions, proud of our forest and most of all proud of our connection to the great Earth Mother. Those are all the things the Elves have nothing of. They are a weak and vunerable people, no match to our great race, they have no old traditions and are easily changed, they live on plains, digging and tearing apart the Earth Mother and they abhor the connections to the Earth Mother. We abhor them simply because there is nothing to respect. That is why we have laws against becoming like them. That is why the punishments are so strict.”
She dropped from the tree and landed barely a pace before him. “I am not weak. I follow the traditions. I love our forest. I have a strong connection to the Earth Mother. I simply wish to learn from whence I came, and what my people are like. Do you understand that?”
“In short, your curiosity was your downfall, Beast. You were doing so well.” His voice turned menacing and he towered over her, baring his yellow fangs. “Your strength was great, you trusted no one- leaving you invunerable, but you were simply too curious and wished to learn too much. Now you are nothing but a traitior.”
She tensed at his words, but did not flinch. “You can do nothing. I am stronger than you by far.”
His eyes glinted maliciously at her and he leapt upon her, thrashing and biting wildly.
She ducked beneath his teeth and slid under his soft belly quickly. She kicked him with all her strength in the belly and he yelped and collapsed to the ground. Nenaela wasted no time in climbing upon his great back and reaching her arm around his thick neck to his throat. She grasped his windpipe and squeezed, using the advantage arms gave her to put so great a creature under her power. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another asy black wolf with orange stripes leap at her and rolled off the back of the Elder before backing up and keeping the two of them in her sights. She could hear another coming up behind her, his soft step barely perceptible, but his furious growl a dead give away. The Elder climbed to his large feet and bore down on her.
“That was a mistake, little elven beast,” The elder snarled at her before he and the second attacker leapt at her.
She leapt as high as she could and grasped the branch that was only a little over her head and swung onto it. She spotted another of the sharp, heavy sticks and grabbed the next tree branch and swung herself to it. She grabbed the not sharp bit and swung it to the wolves. It was even heavier! “Do not make me use this against you!” She snarled, baring her teeth.
The three Draka chuckled, and another four joined them. “What will you do little Beast? You are but one vunerable elf and we are seven strong Draka.”
She smiled maliciously at the Elder. “But I am the one elf who understands you.” And she flung the sword with all her might just as he leapt at her. The sick sound of flesh being forcefully parted echoed in the breathless silence that followed her actions. Nenaela found herself being attacked on all sides by far more than seven Draka. She was ducking under claws and hitting as ahrd as she could in all the vital areas that gained the most reaction from the monster- the eyes and throats. One Draka bit the soft flesh of her side and she screamed in pain and thrashed wildly, trying to escape the vicious grip. Once one was through her defenses, the rest quickly broke through as well and she found herself on the ground, being dragged away by the Draka.
Three days had passed since Nenaela made her first kill. Any other pack member would be having a celebration to commemorate her success. But she killed a pack member, not an elf. She looked around herself and wondered why she ever let her curiosity best her. Because she wished to know more about her own race she had killed an Elder and was awaiting her execution with an empty belly. It was tradition that while a traitor awaited the three required days until their punishment they were not fed. And she was an accused traitor. So they had secured her to a tree with thick vines so that she would not escape and decided her fate.
She realized that it had taken the entire pack battling her to capture her and she had unintentionally killed another six Draka other than the Elder. It was no wonder that she was so carefully guarded.
Her head lifted as a Draka approached, he was very similar to the rest of the pack. He was equally large, if anything he was larger than the others with the same ash black fur and orange stripes and brown eyes. But he had a tell tale limp that made her heart sink. The Alpha. He was bad news for anything that walked upon two legs and had never liked her. His being sent meant that her execution was going to be particularly terrible.
“Beast creature.” He greeted her in a cold, emotionless tone.
Nenaela held back the urge to laugh at the greeting. “May the Earth Mother bless you,” She replied politely.
“She will. But you are no longer her child.”
Nenaela raised her eyebrow. “Are you the pack Earth Leader?”
“I am not.”
“Only the pack Earth Leader has the authority to announce such a thing.”
He snarled at her and came forward until he was so close she could smell his breath and feel the heat of the huge Draka. “It matters not. You will be killed an hour before sunset today.”
“And how is that going to happen?”
“That is supper time and you are the meal.”
She froze, feeling her body go cold with sudden fear. She had expected to have to fight until she died, simply be killed or even to be cast out of her beloved forest, but never to be torn to pieces until she was dead.
“Enjoy the last few hours until your death.” He told her and walked away, leaving her with nothing to do but wait for her own demise.
She looked at the nine Draka lined up behind her. They were all the pack leaders, the ones in charge, and the Alpha was in the middle, glaring at her. “You are sentanced to execution, Beast. What have you to say for yourself?” He boomed across the silent clearing.
She straightened her shoulders and glared at them, hiding her fear behind her anger. “May the Earth Mother smite you Alpha Dremin.” She snapped, using the name that not one was to know. It was beyond rude to speak another’s name without their permission, especially when they themselves had not trusted it into the speaker’s keeping. And that was exactly what she intended it to be.
The Alpha tensed and snarled, then his body tightened in preparation to attack her.
She closed her eyes and stood as tall as she could, awaiting the sharp pain of his fangs sinking into her flesh. The sheer amount of pain she knew she was in for terrified her, but she would never show it. To show ones fear was a sign of their own weakness. And if she was going to do anything at all, it was to die with pride having always been strong. She anticipated the pain as a way to gain respect, the rotting feeling of their breath inside her wounds as they tore off morsels of food and fed on her life… But it never came.
Instead, the Draka growled together, one low, rumbling warning.
“Leave her alone.” A voice snapped. It was deep, and most decidedly male but was not nearly rough enough to be that of a Draka. Instead, it was smooth and clear as a bell. Was that the voice of an Elf?”
“She is ours! And always has been!” The Alpha’s voice rang out, the gravelly tone much more prominent after the musical sound of the other’s.
She slowly opened one eye and the other fell open immediately after as they fell upon a tall Elf standing before her, holding a grey weapon similar to those she had been using before she was caught. His back was turned to her but he was obviously guarded. “What are you doing?! They will slaughter you!” She exclaimed at him, her eyes wide. She blinked a few times and when he did not dissolve she realized that this was indeed real.
“Such says the firl who is tied to a tree awaiting her execution,” That clear voice responded in a superior tone.
The soft, gentle sound of his voice was so strange, so unfamiliar to her, she could not grow angry at his condescending attitude. She had been raised among Draka, after all. “I was handling it.”
“No, you gave up.”
“I was allowing myself one small bit of pride before my death. You ruined that.”
“Oh, my sincerest apologies. Next time I will not save the damsel in distress.” He snapped, as three of the Elders attacked him.
“Cut my bindings, I can assist you.” She demanded, ignoring the fact that she did not understand several of the words he used.
“You? Ha.” He plunged his weapon into the heart of one while the other two came at him from both sides. The other five, including the Alpha attacked as well, working as a pack. They were nearly unstoppable when they did that, and Nenaela knew it.
“You need my assistance! Cut my bindings!” She exclaimed, struggling viloently against the vines holding her wrists in place on the other side of the tree.
“I am occupied! Give me a little time!”
“You would already have all of them dead if you would HELP ME!” She had once been resigned to her fate of death, but now that she had been given a chance, she was going to make the most of it and get away.
“In case you did not know, you will be useless.”
“Cut my bindings!” She repeated, wrenching wildly this way and that in an attempt to release her arms. She had no idea how Draka managed to tie knots but they tied them well.
After a few minutes more of furious battle the Elf managed to kill five more and the remaining three Draka fled. He turned to her triumphantly. “I needed no help.”
She bared her teeth at him, her brilliantly blue eyes flashing with anger. “Cut. My. Bindings.”
He looked over the small woman. Regardless of her puny height and his first impression of her being but a child, she was indeed a woman. She wore only a filthy, ragged bit of cloth that was tied just beneath her shoulders and around her waist before it fell to just above her knees. It was held together by thin, inexpensive ropes that looked old and a little rotten and almost as if the ends had been chewed through. Her skin was light brown and her hair a matted, brown mess on top of her head but it was impossible to tell in that was her true coloring or simply dirt. “Perhaps I should not.”
She jerked viciously, and he was siezed with fear that she would rip off her own arms to escape.
He immediately rushed to the other side of the small tree and cut her wrists free. “Calm down!” By the time he rounded the tree again she had taken off the remains of the vines that had held her and was examining her red and inflamed wrists. “Are you alright?” He asked, wondering who she was and if she was the woman he had been sent to take care of.
She glared at him, narrowing her eyes and twisting her lovely face into a cold expression while covering one wrist protectively with her other hand.
He held up his hands in a show of meaning no harm, cautious of the suspicion that was clear in her expression. “It was only a harmless question, my apologies. My name is Keegan Fitzwilliam.”
She froze and her eyes grew large. Had she been holding anything, Nenaela knew she would have dropped it to the fround. All her life the Draka had drilled into her that sharing one’s name was the ultimate sign of trust- one that she had never truly been given. She had learned the name of the Alpha because she was so much quieter than Draka. But a name given was special. A name identified someone as more than a scent or a being, a name was unique to each person. She never had the chance to trust anyone with hers, something she was immensely proud of. Where was this elf’s pride? “What?”
“My name is Keegan…” He repeated slowly, giving her a strange look.
She stared at him, trying to read his features. His eyes were a clearer, truer green than any she had ever seen and he was a little browned from the sun. His black hair was shaggy and a little past his ears. He was as tall as a normal sized Draka. His face was angular and his body was fit and very strong. “Keegan.” She murmured, tasting the word.
“Yes…”
“Your name is Keegan…” She turned the idea over in her head until it finally registered. She knew a name! A smile spread across her face. “You told me your name!” She exclaimed and laughed out loud and spun in a circle. “Incredible! I know a name with permission!” She danced around him, still laughing freely.
He gave her another strange look. “We need to go.”
She stopped dancing and looked over at his cold face, he was not rejoicing. “Why?”
A Draka howled, a long angry cry somewhere not far away. The rest of the pack joined the howl.
“Does that answer your question?” He grabbed her wrist, completely forgetting about the rawness on it and he pulled her along behind him, going north.
“That was a war cry. Keegan, they are hunting.”
“Hunting? How do you even know these things?”
There was another howl and a series of barks.
Nenaela started running, pulling Keegan behind her. “Run Keegan!”
“Why are we running?”
“We are the prey!” She cried and pulled him along as quickly as she could. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she understood what the last cry was. Bring them alive, there will be fun tonight. It was a command from the Alpha.
Keegan stopped resisting her and even pulled a little bit ahead, leading the way away from her angry pack.
She ran until she felt like she was going to collapse and then kept going. She was gasping for breath and kept stumbling every few steps, and yet Keegan didn’t. He was just running as if it was the most simple thing in the world to run for his life. “Keegan, I cannot-“
He looked back at her then suddenly stopped and pulled her into the shadow of a tree, the evening light rendering the two of them unseen as several Draka ran past.
Nenaela froze as she realized how dangerous and vunerable a pose they were in. He was directly behind her with his large, rough hand over her mouth and another around her waist, blocking them from view. He could very easily kill her in this position.
“You must be silent!” He hissed in her ear. “You will not get us caught!”
She wiggled out of his grip and glared at him. “Leave me alone!” She snarled.
“I do not wish to be a meal! Which means I need you to be completely silent!”
“If you are so worried about it then perhaps you should climb a tree.”
“What do you even know?”
“Clearly more than you do!” She snapped at him. “Can Draka climb trees? No they can not! They cannot see in the dark either, they have terrible tracking skills and they have no sense of smell unless the thing is bleeding!”
“What kind of nonsense is that?!”
She growled in frustration, and reached into the tree above them. She was only a little too small. “Stay here on the ground! I will climb a tree and be safe!” She jumped up and grabbed the branch, swinging onto it.
Keegan watched her walk away from branch to branch, contemplating his next move. He was searching for a woman, a beautiful round eared elf named Nenaela Airdronac. He wondered what the chances were of her being the woman walking above his head, or if there was another one wandering the forest full of Draka. “You are walking towards the cliffs, those will be your death.” He called after her.
She whirled, her eyes flashing in the final light of day. “I know that! No Draka goes there for that very reason!”
“Come with me.”
She chewed her lip, deliberating. If she travelled with him he would take her out of the forest, the only home she had ever known or she could live from day to day running from her pack and trying to survive. There was so much she could learn about her own race. But there was the comfort of the one place she loved. “Where?”
“Out of this forest and into the towns and cities of the elves.”
Towns? Cities? She ignored the strange words and looked at him. “You are an Elf then?”
He brushed back his shaggy hair and revealed a pointed ear. “What else would I be?”
“I couldn’t be certain, now could I?” She snapped, resenting the cold, aloof tone that he used. She sighed and let it go, more curious than insulted. “Lead the way then.”
He walked north again and she followed him, only a few steps behind.
“Tell me of the Elves.”
“Why? We are of the same race, the same customs, we live in the same world.”
She leapt across a particularly large gap between trees, landing with cat-like grace before leaping across more gaps, an impish smile on her face. “How can I? I have never left the forest.”
“You have never left this place?” He looked up to see her grab one and swing around it before letting go and flying across the space to the next. He could only imagine the feeling of bark cutting into her hands.
“No, I have always lived among Draka. Any other Elf I have seen was dead or outside the forest.”
“The Draka raised you?”
“Yes, I was but a young cub when I was taken in.”
“How did they communicate with you?”
“Draka do speak you realize.”
“Well, yes. But it is so strange to think of them accepting even a young child.”
“Child?”
“Cub as you called it.”
“Oh. They never intended to accept me.”
“What?”
“It is truth. They only wished to give me a chance to fight them off. They never expected me to become so talented at defending myself.”
“They wished to give you a chance to fight them off? Why did they not kill you immediately?”
“The Draka are not barbaric, they do give their enemies a fighting chance. It would have been slaughter to kill me at that age.”
“And yet it was not slaughter to eat you alive?”
“I had already used my chance to fight them off. I lost.”
“That is the strangest thing I have ever heard.”
“Please tell me of the elves.”
“Perhaps it is better that we walk in silence.” He told her that with such finality in his voice that she fell silent.
As she trailed behind Keegan she wondered at his covering. It was not fur, none of it, that was for certain. There was something thick and deep green, almost black that sat on his shoulders and fell down his back almost to the ground and under it was a white covering that was loose and covered his chest and belly and arms to his wrists. Then there was something more form fitting and black over his legs and feet that changed around the half way point. Across his back he had the gray weapon and a stick with a very thin vine on it and a brown pouch. It made her feel a little underdressed.
Night fell quickly in the forest and the moon could never penetrate the trees and their leaves so when it became dark it became black and impossible to see anything. Only then did Nenaela come out of the trees for the safer path of walking upon the ground in the darkness. “Keegan, no Draka can walk at night. It terrifies them.”
The dim shape that was Keegan turned and dropped several things to the ground. “Stay here, I will return with supper.”
“In this darkness? Surely not.”
“Any other time and there are Draka about. Besides, your belly has been grumbling.”
She pressed her hand to her belly and frowned. It had been, but she did not think that he could hear it.
His dim outline completely disappeared and she heard his step fade into the distance.
Nenaela sat down and waited for his return, wondering what he would return with. It did not matter what it was, she was willing to eat roots if he returned empty handed.
Her thoughts turned away from food and onto what she was doing following a strange elf. Admittedly, he was the only elf she had ever met, but that did not change the fact that she did not know him, could not trust him. But there was so much he could teach her about her race. Their customs, their beliefs, their jobs in the pack of elves and all about those strange coverings and weapons.
Just the anticipation of what she could learn from Keegan- the one name she had been given- and what she could teach him made her want to jump right into it. But the cold darkness was so appealing, it called to her exhausted body. She had not slept well bound to a tree, and not having any food in that time equally exhausted her. Her eyes drooped against her will and try as she may to fight it off, she slept.
Can't wait until you write more! I'll leave the criticism up to someone else to do. 
