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The night air was cold, cold enough to cause your breath to freeze, cold enough to make the branches brittle under her weight, but she wasn?t concerned, the chill was worth bearing as she heard the baying of wolves in the near distance. Their sweet song carried over the night air and danced among the hoar frost.
But there was another sound, the sound of laboured, shallow breathing; the sound of a man, heavily armoured, crashing through those brittle branches, shattering the majestic innocence of the night frost.
She waited
The pack was driving their prey, this man, to the ends of his endurance, wringing out every last ounce of usable strength from his legs. She knew the crisp air was burning his lungs as he gasped for breath, breath to cold for the body to use. He was starving.
Closer
His clumsy footfalls crashed through underbrush, his arms waved wildly in front of his face, but those brittle branches would not be denied. Those branches, little frost covered talons would tear at his exposed skin, painting lines of fear across his face and leaving droplets in the snow; little red beacons for the wolves to follow.
Still closer
She heard another sound now, the racing of his pulse. His heart thundered against his chest threatening to break free, if the man?s chest wasn?t encased in heavy plate. He broke through the tree line, crashing to his knees, gasping for air. She watched him crawl, trying to regain his feet underneath him, but they refused to work properly. It wasn?t until the sound of the wolves, close behind, that he regained the motivation he needed in order to pull himself up off the cold ground.
Gasping for air the man drew his sword and turned to face his pursuers.
He barely had the strength left to stand, let alone to hold steel firm. His knees shook under the weight of his exhausted body, the weight of his armour and the weight of the night sky.
?I ain?t runnin? no more! Ye hear me you sons a bitches? No more!?
The wolves had reached their prey, they circled on the edge of the tree line, their low growls rumbled through the frozen earth, their hot breath forming a low fog.
She waited
?C?mon ye bastards! Try an? take the life from me!?
She pulled the mask down over her face before leaving her perch. She streaked earthward like a falling star only to land softly behind the man. His thundering pulse reverberating in his ears easily concealed her movements as she softly wound her arms around his neck, and with a sharp movement released his life.
She looked down at the man?s corpse momentarily before the hairs on the back of her neck told her she was not alone. Someone other than the wolves, who had abated their clamour to eye the corpse hungrily. Another man approached, his heavy footfalls crushed the ground as he broached the tree line. The wolves hung their heads and whined, refusing to make eye contact.
?It is done then.?
The woman only nodded
?Very good sister.?
The wolves howled into the night sky before greedily springing on their cooling dinner.
But there was another sound, the sound of laboured, shallow breathing; the sound of a man, heavily armoured, crashing through those brittle branches, shattering the majestic innocence of the night frost.
She waited
The pack was driving their prey, this man, to the ends of his endurance, wringing out every last ounce of usable strength from his legs. She knew the crisp air was burning his lungs as he gasped for breath, breath to cold for the body to use. He was starving.
Closer
His clumsy footfalls crashed through underbrush, his arms waved wildly in front of his face, but those brittle branches would not be denied. Those branches, little frost covered talons would tear at his exposed skin, painting lines of fear across his face and leaving droplets in the snow; little red beacons for the wolves to follow.
Still closer
She heard another sound now, the racing of his pulse. His heart thundered against his chest threatening to break free, if the man?s chest wasn?t encased in heavy plate. He broke through the tree line, crashing to his knees, gasping for air. She watched him crawl, trying to regain his feet underneath him, but they refused to work properly. It wasn?t until the sound of the wolves, close behind, that he regained the motivation he needed in order to pull himself up off the cold ground.
Gasping for air the man drew his sword and turned to face his pursuers.
He barely had the strength left to stand, let alone to hold steel firm. His knees shook under the weight of his exhausted body, the weight of his armour and the weight of the night sky.
?I ain?t runnin? no more! Ye hear me you sons a bitches? No more!?
The wolves had reached their prey, they circled on the edge of the tree line, their low growls rumbled through the frozen earth, their hot breath forming a low fog.
She waited
?C?mon ye bastards! Try an? take the life from me!?
She pulled the mask down over her face before leaving her perch. She streaked earthward like a falling star only to land softly behind the man. His thundering pulse reverberating in his ears easily concealed her movements as she softly wound her arms around his neck, and with a sharp movement released his life.
She looked down at the man?s corpse momentarily before the hairs on the back of her neck told her she was not alone. Someone other than the wolves, who had abated their clamour to eye the corpse hungrily. Another man approached, his heavy footfalls crushed the ground as he broached the tree line. The wolves hung their heads and whined, refusing to make eye contact.
?It is done then.?
The woman only nodded
?Very good sister.?
The wolves howled into the night sky before greedily springing on their cooling dinner.