The Alpha

The sound of the gun rang out and the smoke began to rise from the barrel as a silver bullet pierced the night. Lunus felt the kickback from the gun, and she flinched, her eyes closing for a fraction of a second, a time which would have been negligible under any other circumstances, but here it was long enough for her to lose sight of her target. 

Lunus had been watching the shadow beast and tracking its position by the movement of the leaves or the trembling of a branch as the wolf-man passed it, but now everything was still. There was no movement at all - not from shadows, not from anywhere. Instead, the forest had given way to only an eerie silence, and Lunus heard neither hunter nor beast.

She sat on her horse, her eyes moving warily from side to side in search of the once moving shadows. She strained her ears, yearning to hear, to know, but she heard only the sound of her own breath and her beating heart. 

The air left her mouth like clouds of vapor in the cold night, and for a moment she wondered if she might see the wolf breathe the same. But it was dark, far too dark, and the only light was that of the moon. The wolves had better sight, better senses. She was sure that they could hear; they could see. 

She drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and turned her head, looking for something, anything, some tell-tale sign of the wolf's presence. She began to think that perhaps she had hit it, but that was a dangerous assumption, especially for a Hunter. 

The wolves were stronger, faster, and fiercer than they were. For the Hunter, to assume wrong was to assume death, and so she had trained herself to trust nothing more than her senses. To assume she had hit it alone was a stretch, but then there came the question: was it killed or merely wounded. If wounded, how badly? If incapacitated, is it truly helpless or merely feigning an injury as part of a trap? The wolves had been known at times to trick the Hunters. They, too, were hunters, after all. 

So, she waited. She waited to the sound of her own breathing. She waited without a shadow in sight, until... 

She turned her head, catching a glimpse of something in the forest to her left. She pulled at the reigns of her horse, cautiously trotting into the unmarked woods away from her companions. She hadn't heard the others for some time, anyway, and she reasoned that it was likely they were either dead, wounded, or gone. The thought of that was itself unsettling,  but she would retain the hope that they were only somehow separated until a later time. 

Lunus stopped her horse, now alone in the noble confrontation of the chilling sight of the autumn wood, and the forest creaked as a crisp wind blew. She breathed slowly - in, then out, and she repeated the process until she felt the distinct fear and panic of a dark and deathly presence at her back. 

There came the sound of a low, indistinguishable growl, and Lunus froze. 

"You missed," came a voice like the poisoned grips of utter darkness from behind her.

Lunus felt her blood turn cold like ice in her veins, and a newfound fear danced like moonlight in her eyes. 

The wolf had somehow found its way around her. Perhaps it faded back into the night or changed its course, but that didn't matter now.  All that mattered was how she responded to it. Death was a choice, after all, more than anything. 

Lunus waited, discreetly readying her weapon. She only had one shot, if that. So, it had to be the perfect time. If she shot recklessly, then the bullet would miss and she would die in the jaws of this predator. She closed her eyes tight to clear her mind and took a deep breath again, trying once more to calm herself. 

Her ears were tuned to the deep sound of the furry menace, and, as she listened to the wolf's long, threatening growl, she promised herself that next time she would bring her revolver. She focused in on the wolf and its breathing. The beast snarled at her, seeking to intimidate her, and she was careful to remain calm. 

Lunus knew she stood a chance of beating this rather precarious position so long as she remained in control of herself and was careful to make the best of a bad situation. The best Hunters knew all of the rules of hunting, when to follow... and when to break them, and Lunus knew that this was one of those times for the rules to be broken. 

She would wait. 

The wolf would pounce. 

And then...

The wolf let out a sharp bark of snapping anger, and Lunus knew it was the start of the attack. The great beast moved to strike at her, jumping high to force her down from the saddle where she rode atop the horse with leather armor. 

It wasn't long that she waited for him, and when she heard the sign, she bolted, sparing no time to put her plan into action. It was then that Lunus dismounted. She threw herself from the horse to one side, escaping the attack of the mighty creature and spinning herself as she fell to the ground. 

His aim was to pin her beneath the inescapable grip of his powerful paws. Hers was to see him, and that was exactly what she did as she threw herself down beside him. The world seemed to stop, though it was still moving, and there, against the moonlight, she saw Balthazar. 

There, above her, flew the Shadow of the Forest, his massive form clearly seen against the glowing white disk of the waxing moon, and he was far more terrible than she had ever heard or imagined. His fur was black as a moonless midnight dusted with a hint of darkest blue. His eyes were demon black on fading white without a hint of color between. His claws were sharp as sparkling blades made to pierce the strongest armor and long as six inch knives. Lunus watched him as he stretched himself in flight and estimated that he must have been at least nine feet in length. Even with the thick coat of fur, she could see the perfect muscle of his body, and she knew that she would have been easily thrown by even a flick of his powerful tail. 

She watched in awe as the Alpha flew over her chestnut warhorse, which stood obedient to its charge and would not run though frightened, and she knew that he would have easily grabbed her had she not abandoned the horse. He would have pulled and taken her father into the woods, far past the mount to the dark dirt and scattered wood chips of the forest floor where he would have forced her down and devoured her. But that was not her fate tonight. 

Tonight, Balthazar had met his match, and tonight he had chosen the wrong Hunter, because Lunus was determined not only to beat him but to take him as a trophy to her home.