Dreamer's Mark

Running

Celestia's POV

She ran as fast as she could go. Her muscles were pleading her to stop but she couldn't. They would catch up. She couldn't lose everything now. Years of longing and yearning for this one thing. She couldn't give up on it now. She ran through the forest, across a grassland, over a hill and down but she didn't stop. She crossed a river and entered another forest.

Finally, she stood still and as her heartbeat calmed, she strained her ears to hear approaching footsteps. None. And finally she gave in and collapsed. She had succeeded. She deserved a break at last. Everything blacked out.

She woke up with her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't feel grass under her. It was cold and hard tiled floor under her.

No, no, no, no, no..... they found her, she needed to leave, escape, not again, she couldn't do it again.

She tried to get up but her shackles pulled her back. Shackles? Her hands and feet were shackled. Who would do this?

She looked around her to see if there was anyone was present and then tried to shift to her wolf form. She couldn't. As soon as she tried to shift, a pain seared through her head to chest. Her heart! It was aching again. So bad. But she didn't cry. This pain was nothing, she had had worse. She wouldn't cry for something so trivial.

"Stop trying to shift, wretch. Won't do no good to ya."

She turned to face an old pot bellied man leering at her. She instantly grew self-conscious. She didn't like people looking at her at all and this was even worse. And then she noticed, he wasn't from her pack.

"Eat up. We need you awake to see the drama," he said pushing a plate of stale bread and a disgusting looking liquid at her. With one last look, he left.

To sum up, now I am locked in a stupid dudgeon of a foreign pack unable to shift and leave. Dear God, I know we aren't the best of friends right now but this is low even for you. Help me!

Looking at the stale bread made her want to puke. No way in hell was she eating it. She looked around, trying to find a small opening, some door or window within her reach to look around and see if she could identify her surroundings.

The cell was small and there wasn't a window here.

Oh, Lord. No.

The man had locked the door on his way out. No way for any air to enter. It would have been okay for a while had she not been claustrophobic.

And now that I noticed the fact, I'm going to feel even worse than usual. Prevention is better than cure, Star. Start breathing slowly. In, out In, Out.

And breathing like that, she began drifting back into a dreamless sleep.

AN: So I've edited and republished this part. I hope you like it!

Comment what you think about the story so far.