Home -- Wolv book 3

Eight - Giving up

I crashed through the trees lining the edge of the community, stumbling over my bloodied leg and slicing my palms open on bits of ice that lined the ground, stubbornly refusing to melt.

"Ah! Ah!" I tumbled to a stop, biting back a scream. I tore off the tattered remains of my shirt, tearing the hide fabric into strips with my nails. As I wrapped the bits of cloth around my leg, I could hear shouts and growls filtering through the trees.

"Get off--ahhhh! You bloody runt!"

A ferocious howl split the air, making my blood run cold. I pulled myself back to my feet and started forward again, doing my best to shut the pain from my mind.

"Arrrgh! You mutt!"

Was it just me, or were those screams getting closer? I dove through a thicket, brushing the brambles out of my way and tumbling down onto a sandy beach on the other side.

The silent, placid surface of Minikwakunis Lake stretched before me, dimly reflecting the last bit of twilight.

BANG!!!

Abruptly, the sounds of the fight behind me fell silent. Did Norman just kill Machk?

Or did Machk kill Norman?

No, that was a gunshot. Unless Machk figured out how to fire a gun using paws...

I twitched my head to the side, listening. The silence around me was deafening; all I could hear was my own heart, pounding away furiously inside my chest.

I slouched forward on the muddy sand, staring blankly out over the waters. My eyes were wide--honestly, I had no idea what to do anymore. Should I be running right now? What if Norman finds me again? I doubt he'd hesitate this time!

Beneath me, I could feel my pants slowly getting soaked with the blood running from my leg. I slowly shifted myself on the sand, stretching my legs out in front of me, letting my heels rest in the icy waters.

It wouldn't really matter if Norman found me, would it? I opened my fist and let go of the remains of my shirt, letting them fall down to the sand next to me. I'm dead anyway.

Already, I could feel a burning pain gnawing at my body, lapping at the edge of my consciousness, begging to be let out. This was it--my shift was here. All I had to do now was relax...and let go of everything that I'd been fighting.

I ran my claws along the caribou-skin fabric of my pants, slicing it open and then pulling them off, discarding them in a pile along with my shirt. It was fitting--I'd received the outfit here, in Minikwakunis, the night I was taken. Now, finally, I was removing the clothes I'd worn so long back in the same place I'd got them.

With shaking hands, I slowly pulled my knees up to my chest and curled up into a ball, shivering beneath the frigid spring air. I twitched my ears once more, listening for any sounds of a pursuer.

It is still quiet.

...

There's no one here but me.

Once again, I was alone. Whatever had happened back in town seemed to be staying there.

"Well, I--ack!--guess this as good a place as any." I lay back on the cold sand and closed my eyes. Even behind my eyelids, I could still see faint flashes and flickers of green light from the auroras dancing above.

Could I really ask for a better way to go? Well, of course I could. I'd rather not be torn apart and broken in my last moments. But hey! I'm alone, on the shores of a beautiful lake, the northern lights are dancing, it's quiet...