A scream shattered the silence like a projectile through glass, sending glittering shards of sound spiraling off into the night.
Poised cat-like by the riverbank, Ayra tensed, her muscles pulling taut as wires.
Outside her bower of marsh reeds, the moon-washed plains rippled gently. But the wind carried a much more sinister message...if you had a nose strong enough to smell it.
A whisper of fear brushed through her mind and she got up slowly, her expression guarded. This was what she had been waiting for...and what she had been dreading.
With steps as light as a dancer's, she crossed the threshold of drying mud and entered the grasslands. Tilting her head, she inhaled deeply, letting the heady combination of smells drift into her nose...
The rusty, metallic reek of blood and terror hit the roof of her mouth sharply, cutting like a blade.
Alarm flared in her sea-green eyes. So it's true, she thought with a kind of savage pleasure. The mighty demon has indeed come for me.
A grim smile twisted her lips and in the moonlight, her face was devastatingly beautiful; she looked like a dark goddess, vengeful and silent as the night itself.
But as the echoes of the scream rang in her ears, fear crashed over her like a wave, eroding the sandy banks of the island of her courage.
Her dark eyes flickered and flared in the silvery light, and she sank into a light crouch.
If she had to die, she would die fighting.
The leaves rustled, and moonlight fell upon the essence of nightmares.
The gleam of fangs, the sucking blackness of a dry, withered hide, and he was off, following a delicate scent trail; the scent of Ayra.
She ran.
She didn't know what else to do.
The grass was cool and lush against her legs, the night air soft on her face. If it wasn't for the fact that she was running for her life, she would have enjoyed it.
Above her, the stars twinkled coldly from the velvet stretch of the midnight sky. She raised her head to look at them, a silent plea etched on her face.
A streak in the night, the demon raced after her. She felt the vibrations of it footfalls and terror settled over her like a second skin. Her heart pounded a rhythm of fear against her chest.
Vaguely, she wondered who the scream had come from. Dark thoughts whispered from the edges of her mind; could it have been Guinevere? Or Ven?
She felt the demon's presence as many things, all around her. The air itself felt charged with electricity, the ground pulsing with lethal intent.
Life.
The thought echoed in her mind long after she first heard it; soft but bitter, symbolizing everything she was about to lose. It was all so dear to her; how could she die now, when it seemed her life had just begun?
Suddenly, the grass was limited. Instead of the endless silvery-green, she saw the sky ahead, and the distant outline of a mountain. Then it hit her.
She was on a cliff.
She wanted to slow down, to peer cautiously over the edge to see how far down she would fall, but she couldn't.
She could hear the rasping breath of the demon, too close behind her. The smell of it's hate, it's bloodlust, it's bottomless appetitie for violence, was hot on her skin. Stagnant; swamping her in fear.
Death snapped at her heels.
There was only one thing to do.
Something everyone else had done.
Something she was dreading.
Something she had only dreamed of.
The ground disappeared suddenly; an appalling drop down to the unknown. Risking a glance, she saw the dark gleam of water, far, far below her.
Too far. She wouldn't make it.
Twisting her neck, she looked up, and was surprised to see how far she had fallen. The demon, framed in silver, snarled and writhed like a heap of snakes. His eyes burned into hers, stripping her raw with the sheer force of his hatred. It scalded her, forced her to look away. But even as she reopened them, staring at the water underneath her, the image of the demon as she had seen him last was etched behind her eyes; a monstrous, gargantuan form, snarling against the backdrop of azure sky.
Don't think about that!
She scolded herself, and again shut her eyes, concentrating fiercely. She had delayed long enough; below, the water approached at a worrying speed.
A flash of blue lightning seared her mind, and-
A faint, pearly glow radiated from her body, like the frigid halo that surrounded the moon only on the coldest nights. Her slender form twisted, elongated, grew, until she was...
A wolf.
She felt the wings rather than saw them, felt the gentle whispering of feathers before the powerful updraft. The wind whiffled her lush, windswept black fur as she dove. In the moonlight, pale silver blue lines appeared on her face.
She could have laughed. The demon would never catch her now!
Soaring on velvet wings, she melted into the night like a smudge of mist.
Far below, on the stony outcropping, the demon hissed in rage and frustration. It's eyes burned with eternal flames, scorching the very air.
It was only subdued for the moment.
It would be back.
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See the original version here: topic21410.html
>>I'm going to continue after I get some feedback on this...
There is loose ends for those reading it. This is because it is only a fragment of a chapter in the novel I am writing.
What do you think?>>
IMPORTANT:
I've gotten alot of reviews of people who don't like and/or don't understand the whole turning into a wolf thing. Just to explain things:
When she turns into a wolf, she is turning into her Second nature. She is an elf, and all elves have an animal which they can transform into at will.
This was her first time in her Second Nature, as you probably guessed already.
And, about the demon stuff, I know that may seem vague but more will be revealed when I think of the actual beginning of the book...
And, my real name is not Ayra. I just made that my screen name because I have become obssessed with my story
and ready to kill the thing. Maybe she was expecting something else??
:D:D
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