I hadn’t done one of these in what feels like forever. So without further adieu, here is a sneak peak at my latest project. So you know I’m still working and I know you’re still clued in 😉
Her rucksack was not as full as she would have liked after checking all of the nearest traps. And normally she would have ignored the call of those cursed waters and turned back around. But winter was coming fast as the skies whispered. Every day the winds blew fiercer and colder. It was only a matter of time before most creatures burrowed into their holes. Wolves would start covering wider territory.
That was when the Great Hunt would resume.
Resha kept her grip tight on White Fang as she came at last to the edge of the stream. Weak sunlight reflected off the riverbed like the finest mettles. Resha grimaced as she looked up and down the exposed clearing bordering it. Nothing but snow to be found. Her black furs would sand out like a brittle thorn upon unblemished land.
She crouched lower when she saw a grey beast rise slowly from the river bed. Resha opened her mouth to curse but no curse escaped, only an empty gasp as she watched and ignored her fear. To her knowledge nothing lived in the silver river. She waited for the grey beast to rise again, but it sank back against the rocks.
And then it lifted its hand.
All thought and instinct escaped her as she observed those vaguely human fingers stretch to the sky, until even its hand collapsed. For a long time she watched and waited, not trusting herself. Something about this creature, if it be human-kinde, felt wrong and out of place. The wind shifted, bringing the creature’s scent to her sensitive nose. But it was unlike Wolfsbane’s or her own, not even like her demon under the mountain. Not quite entirely human.
Finally, she crawled out of the thicket and onto the snow. The closer she crept, the more her suspicions were realized. It was almost human, the figure. Except the creature was too skinny, scarred by something that made its pale skin as ashen as its sodden cloak. Long dark curls escaped her cloak, dancing in the pristine waters. A girl? She could not stay in the waters. It would spoil or freeze her to death.
Resha’s fingers flexed over the knife hilt. It would be a mercy, really, killing this poor creature before larger beasts picked up the scent. For this much meat, even the wolves might dare to come out of their den and into the dark forest.
She shoved her knife into her belt with more force than necessary. With a heavy sigh, Resha took hold of the almost-human girl’s hand and pulled.
Jennifer Silverwood 