I know this isn't exactly much, but... what the hell. As usual any
comments/corrections/flamewars welcome.
***
The sounds of the nightly forest were nothing new to Laiva. On every
evening, when the noise of the village had finally died down and the
last drunk had left the pub for home, she had heard it. At times, when
she couldn't sleep, she had sat up in bed, wrapped her blanket tightly
around her and listened. Many an alien cry there had been and Laiva
had let her imagination fill in the pictures, fill them with live.
Many a beast she had met this way, warm and snug in the safety of her
bed.
Now things were different. The sounds were the same, but
instead of the safety of her bed there was intimidating darkness,
large trees obscuring whatever beast there might be after her. The
forest was scary enough in its own, but Laiva was terrified. Every
owl's cry made her jump, even though she know what it was, and there
were plenty of things she couldn't identify.
Laiva fastened her grip on the dagger. She didn't care weather
or not it made sense, at least she had a grip on something. She wished
someone was with her, someone to tell her that everything all right,
someone to protect her. She wished she was home. Running away from
home didn't seem such a good idea after all.
Not that it mattered much. She wouldn't reach home until dusk
even if she turned back now. Besides, Laiva doubted that she could
stand any more laughing. And they would laugh if they learned she ran
away and came back because the forest scared her. She had made the
decision and she was going to do it no matter what. Even if it was the
last thing she did. Which Laiva really hoped it wasn't going to be.
There had been far too many men who went into the forest and
never got the chance to tell their tale. Her uncle for one. The
grown-ups had been whispering, but she had heard it anyway: They had
only found his ring, a family heirloom; he'd rather have died than
taken it off. And the blood on it had told its own tale.
It was a clear summer night and despite the moon standing high, it did
nothing to diminish the sparkle of the myriads of diamonds sparkling
next to it. Far below, the dark sea of leaves lay silent, moveless
except for the odd ripple in its surface when the wind gently stroked
its surface.
The surface wasn't unbroken, however. A dark line extended
along its surface, far to straight to be merely a coincidence, but
only on top of it it could be seen for what it was. Amidst the mighty
giants of the forest a chasm opened, threatening to devour anything
that dared venture into it. Indeed the moonlight put little effort
into descending it, leaving the better part of the trunks forming it
to dwell in darkness. Only little of the light went astray and
ventured into the depths of the abyss, as if afraid to disturb the
road at its bottom. Disturbance, however, was already on its way.
Laiva knew she was in trouble the moment she heard the cry.
She was pretty sure it belonged to a bird, but it sounded so utterly
alien that she wondered. The meaning, however, was out of question.
The moment the cry had echoed through the forest all noise suddenly
dies away, but she didn't need that to tell her what it meant.
For a moment she stood like petrified, not daring to move.
Laiva listened into the darkness, but the only thing she could hear
was the throbbing of her heart. Then her mind regained control and
instinctual fear was replaced with rational one. Bewildered she
noticed that she had started walking again. Well, that was probably as
good as anything and moving away from whatever had caused the alarm
sure beat the alternative. After all there was no reason that alarm
was relevant to her in any way, was there? Unfortunately she had never
been very good at fooling herself...
In the darkness of the forest the handsomely reddish fur was no more
than a dark and dirty gray. Not that anyone would have seen the wolves
at day. They were creatures of the night, no so out of necessity, but
choice and embraced the darkness like a lover - and darkness cared for
its children. And tonight it was giving them a very special treat.
Admitingly, there wasn't much flesh on the girl, but the
thought alone of ripping the tender flesh apart was making the lead
wolf salivate. Plus she would be easy prey; they had already circled
her and the stupid thing still hadn't noticed them. It could already
taste the warm blood in its mouth.
For a last time it judged the distance to the girls back, then
tensed its muscles and jumped. It was already on top of her, could
almost taste the blood in its mouth when the girl whirled around and
in an arc brought her arm up against him. The wolf felt blood filling
its mouth, but instead of the sweet liquor it had longed for there was
only the bitterness of its own cursed juice. That hadn't been part of
the plan.
--
emmel <the_emmel*you-know-what-that's-for*@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
(Don't forget to remove the ** bit)
Official AGC feedback maniac
"God is playing creatures - and we're the norns."
"A hundred dead are a tragedy - a hundred thousand are statistics."
"I guess you can call yourself lucky." -
"I could, but Linda suits me a little better... :)
Things called lucky tend to get hit by trucks."
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