25. C

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Isabelle's hand shook violently against her mouth, trying to quiet her breath. Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to stop her teeth from chattering, pressing to squeeze in deeper. The chill had seeped so deeply into her bones that she could not stop her body from shaking, as her back roughly scraped the inside of the hollowed out oak.

The heavy footfalls continued to circle her area a few more loops around the hollowed trunk she'd wedged herself so carefully. There was a hiss of an exhale above her head and she tightened her muscles like steel, focusing all her effort on remaining perfectly still.

What if it didn't leave? Fear gripped her throat, forcing her breaths in shallow gasps. Images of it reaching its claws in and dragging her by the legs played in a morbid loop, heightening her anxiety. A sudden urge to bolt vibrated through her senses like the alarm of a bell. Pinging loud and clear. She needed to go. Now.

As the sound of the footfalls circled away, making another round about the giant tree, she took the chance and wiggled from her crevice.

Isabelle didn't look back as she stumbled out and ran straight ahead through the dark forest maze. She fell several times over upturned roots and brambles. The adrenaline driving her neck breaking pace through the thick underbrush as whipping branches and forest floor tore at her flesh.

Her lungs burned, and her legs ached, threatening to collapse. Just when she thought she couldn't run any further, there it was. A thin outline of a fence peeking from between a path in the trees and beyond, freedom. Isabelle's heart thumped with hope.

The cracking of branches to her right seized her attention. Turning to meet a pair of yellow glowing eyes trained on her. She tripped. The dagger slipped from her hand as palms reached out to soften the blow. They scraped open on a rock, creating a wide gash, and she cried out her pain.

A strange guttural noise followed by a hiss that crawled up her spine as her eyes frantically scanned the shadows of twisted limbs. Her hands searched through the wet earth seeking the comfort of the blade, she thought she had grasped the wooden hilt but her hands came up muddy and with nothing but a twig.

Isabelle sucked in a breath as the glow of yellow eyes came back into focus between two trees. They weaved closer, a large shape coming into view as it stalked through the damp forest. Hunting her.

It moved like the garter snakes she had often seen sunbathing in her back garden. A time- a memory- that seemed so foreign now. Isabelle remained still. Frozen in terror. Afraid to move and give away her position. Afraid that if she ran it would only ignite its bloodlust further.

Perhaps if she remained very still...

Her palm burned, and she clasped it with the other, pressing down to slow the flow of blood, trying to mask the scent. The sound of her own heart pounded loudly in her ears dulling the patter of the rain on the leaves above.

She jumped at the sound of crunching coming toward her from the fence line. Squinted in the dark, willing her human eyes to see, as the shape of a human came into focus. Her eyes shifted back to the right where she had seen the yellow eyes and the creature.

They were gone.

A man shivering, came into view.

"It's not there. There's no escape. It's not there."

It was a voice she recognized, yet shaky and brittle, like it would crack at any moment.

A cart length away stood Jean. Pepper gray hair, slicked to his face, drawing his appearance down. He wore nothing but loose cotton britches covering his legs. The ends sloshed with dirt. His chest bare, ribs jutting, as they heaved, drawing the thin membrane of his skin tight. He looked as unsteady as a foal wobbling on stick legs. Isabelle remained quiet. She couldn't afford to draw her attention to herself. Not when she was so close. Her heart ached for Jean. But her will to survive was greater.

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