MAYARI

THE NIGHT OF THE HUNT

The night of the hunt, when they had come for me, had been a very eerie one. The hairs on the ends of my hands stood as the air felt heavy with a feeling that did not sit well in the pit of my belly.

They did not come for me howling, that would have given them away so easily. “One major rule guarding hunting among wolves: You do not hunt in silence unless necessary.” Breaking pack hunting rules was the first sign that tipped me of the danger imminent even before my brain could catch up.

My senses caught them before I got the chance to see them in the thick fog that covered the night. The air in the forest tightens, nearly choking me. My ankles were still bleeding, the blood oddly contrasting the white of the snow that covered the ground.

Just a few hours earlier, while hunting, I had unknowingly gotten caught in a trap of silver that I did not notice until it had snapped shut around my ankles. The teeth sunk deep, biting into my skin enough to make my vision blur.

I stopped at nothing trying to pry the damn thing off my ankles, my hands shaking from the pure spite and rage that coursed through my veins. Silver was not one to let go of me without putting up a fight, always an accusation, burning deep into my memory. Even though I felt a bone deep tiredness from bleeding out, I could not stop now, not when they were already so close.

"Stopping would get you killed," this thought stings at the edges of my mind even as I limped through the trees, the pain from each step driving me even closer to madness, but I dare not make a sound, scared I would alert them of my exact whereabouts.

I heard and felt the first arrow whistle past my ear and find itself buried in the trunk of one of the trees in front of me.

“A very close call" if you ask me, too close for comfort. Any closer and I would have been pinned in place to the tree by that single arrow.

 

"Fuck!" I swore under my breath as my feet carried me faster than my brain could process. The pain shooting from my feet to my spine was momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment, adrenaline coursing through my veins in uncontrollable waves. 

Branches that hung from the trees tear at my thin coat, the roots catching my boots like silent conspirators to my downfall. The forest soon dissolved into a blur of silvery white, my feet propelling me forward even faster. My brain, for my own safety, refused to process just how many of them are hot on my heels.

I felt them behind me nonetheless, in pursuit with a determination that indicated that they would stop at nothing until I was captured for the pleasure of the Council.

I felt another arrow whoosh through the air and strike the ground just a few inches from my left foot. I saw it as a warning, not an arrow that was actually meant to kill me.

“Bring her alive, that must have been the order of the council" I reasoned within myself. That was the only reasonable explanation for why they were not trying to kill me right now. 

"Isn't that just brilliant?" The loss of blood was already beginning to take a toll, but stopping was still not an option. 

"Bunch of cowards." I grunted, my words meant to taunt them. Even with me in this weakened state, they were still too scared to take me on. 

The silver nets descended next, pieces of thin mesh nets, almost invisible to the eyes except the faint glow that shimmered off them midair. I ducked to my right, narrowly escaping the first one, but I was not so lucky with the second net. It caught my shoulder and my skin burned where it touched.

A raw and hoarse scream escaped from my throat, forcefully torn out of me at that moment. I screamed from the fury that threatened to consume me wholly. My shift shimmered underneath my skin, my claws desperate to be released. 

My bones cracked but refused to be broken and my claws tore at my fingers in a way that was not pleasant, the very sight of them did nothing but disgust me…bloody and useless. 

I never hated myself and my inability to fully shift the way I did at that moment, the urge to hurl myself off the nearest cliff, a very strong desire seated very heavily on my chest.

The pursuers caught up with me, snapping a silver snare around my neck, almost similar to the one that caught my foot, only this was not meant for me to bleed. My breath came out in laboured pants, the silver digging deeper into my throat with each breath I took.

My body hit the ground with a thud, face first into the snow. My pursuers have my hands pinned behind me and knees pressed deep into my back. A criminal for a wrong I had no memory of committing.

“If you look at her, you will be damned to hell, just as she is." The one who spoke seemed to be their leader because the rest of them quickly averted their gaze from me.

“Make sure to bind her tightly," he said again.

Chains followed next, the coldness of them biting into my wrists. The absurdity of the situation slammed into me with a force that I cannot help the ugly and coarse sound that erupted from my throat. It sounds like laughter but at that moment, I could not be so sure. 

“You come at me with chains and nets, hunting me for a crime I have not committed." The bitterness in my words is evident.

“Shut up your foul mouth!" Knees dug deeper into my spine, the group struggling to tie me up against my will.

"If only my shift could come to me fully," I thought to myself in dismay, anger red hot against the edges of my mind. The urge to tear the men to pieces gnawed at my insides, but I was too helpless against them.