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The pain that shoots my body to its core even before my eyes flickered open was the tall tail sign that I was, in fact, still alive.
My back was on fire, even more so than when it hit the damn ground from my fall.
I remembered exactly how I got here, in this position, and when I slowly creaked my eyes open. The glowing orange eyes of a wolf stared straight at me.
They were a fiery orange, with its pupils only looking like a darker orange than black like I'm used to. Around its eyes was white fur, but it looked far from old age. Younger, about 20 or so I would say. But I don't spend a lot of time with people, especially the past 5 years so I couldn't tell.
Pulling my eyes away from the wolf's face, I realized I was still on the ground of the forest. In front of my feet was the cliff I fell off of to escape my early grave.
Looking down at my torso, I do notice bandages now cover my calves, chest, and forearms. And reaching up to touch my forehead, I was greeted with the texture of bandages instead of my textured bumpy acne covered face.
Looking back at the wolf, I noticed that he wasn't alone. Behind him stood around 30 or 40 more people. The two in front were a young man, on the more slender side and with a heavy cape on his shoulders. But he didn't gulf in it as any other person would, the cape seemed to add to his elegant features.
He was clingy to the arms of a slightly taller man, he was bulkier. Scars cover up his bared arms and his neck, and the same heavy cape lay draped around his shoulders. Expect the smaller one has a trim of white fur and the bulker one had a trim of black fur around the top and bottoms of the capes.
Looking at them both you could feel the power radiating off of them. If I hadn't had my fair share of bitches and power-hungry, I wouldn't have even thought that the smaller one was even capable of killing a fly, he looked far too elegant and pretty for such a task. But his eyes radiate power, the same power in the eyes of the male with who he clings in his hands.
The bulky man's eyes were facing the wolf at my side, while the slender one was staring at me. It made me feel small. A feeling I hated with my whole being.
I growled from deep within me, for it has been a long time since I was given the chance and peace to shift. But neither less my fangs grew and were bared for all to see.
Seeing the slender men eyes widen in shock gave me a satisfying feeling. Serves you right dog for looking at me.
But a small frown tugged on my lips when I realized that all the eyes of the people behind me were now directed at me. Feeling all of them drilling holes into me was far from comftale.
Going to growl again, I glared at the people. Who in their right minds get to treat me like I was a new museum portrait. I wasn't art.
The feeling of a wet notice against my neck took my attention away from the people. Looking down at the wolf, It was like he knew how agitated the people were making me.
