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It's cold. Summer has definitely left us behind. The cool, dry air whips us eddies of grit a lashes them across my face, but I couldn't care less. As I stand beneath the Autumn sun, arms spread wide, eyes closed to the glare, I can't stop myself from smiling. I am so happy to just be out. The group of six that accompanied Archer and I were currently somewhere releasing the wolves, who had all been locked up as extra protection against discovery. I breathe in deeply, the smell of the earth, and crisp air centring me, and making me more determined than ever to get out, to get home. I belonged under the open sky. "Fran?"

I don't open my eyes as I reply, "Yes?"

"When you open your eyes, try not to be alarmed."

I stiffen at his tone, "What do you mean?"

"Just...don't panic." I open my eyes slowly, and do almost just that.

"Oh my God!" The Marsh wolves were much larger than I'd always imagined, their heads reaching chest height. Each was the dusty red of the desert around them, and each had a large pair of large amber eyes. But that wasn't what really freaked me out, what scared me half to death was the fact that I was surrounded by nearly two dozen of them.

"They can smell your fear," Archer calls over, and I glare at him, "just relax."

"That's easy for you to sa-eek!" I break off in a squeal as one nudges my stomach with its nose.

"Put your hand out!"

"No!"

"Just do it!" he nudges me again, harder, and I growl at him under my breath, before thrusting a hand out. He jerks back, then sniffs warily for a moment. Then, as I watch, he opens his massive jaws, flashing razor canines, and closes it over my hand. My eyes snap shut and I wait for the pain involved in losing a hand, but it doesn't happen. Instead, I only feel a gentle pressure, then nothing. I open my eyes to see him padding off, and the others turn to follow

"Wha-what just happened?"

"He has accepted you," Gabriel, the Master of Hounds tells me, jogging off in the direction they'd gone.

"What does that mean?" I ask Archer as the others slowly trickle off in the same general direction.

"It means that if he hadn't, you wouldn't have a hand right now."

"What?"

"Never mind that, I wanted to show you something, come."

"Archer-"

"Let's go!" He is already moving away, and I groan in frustration. He just couldn't answer anything I wanted to know, could he? We trudge along the base of the mountain for some distance, before turning left sharply and climbing into a wide, v-shaped crack. There is a flattened path that we follow in silence for several minutes, until Archer tells me we have to squeeze through a narrow gap between two crumbling boulders.

"Is this safe?" I squeak, fearfully tracing cracks in the rock above my head.

"Our Tribe has been coming here for as long as we've lived here," he replies pulling me along encouragingly, "you'll like it, don't worry."

"That's if I'm not crushed before I get there," I grumble. I don't get crushed, however, and I am so happy that I didn't. "Oh," I can't think of anything else to say as I gaze at the luminescent blue pool before me, with beautiful flowers floating in the water. Vines crawl up the damp rock, snow white flowers in full bloom sprout from their stalks. I move closer, then drop to my knees to peer into the clear depths as something orange flashes past. As I watch, large, brightly coloured fish swim lazily towards me, and I gasp in delight. I slip a hand into the cool water, and wiggle my fingers, giggling with delight as they nibble my fingers. "Oh Archer, it's so beautiful," I feel tears well in the corner of my eyes, and they drip down my cheeks. If Archer hadn't taken me from my home, I never would have seen anything like this. "What are they?"

A Splatter of Other #Wattys2015Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora