Prologue

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Hi everyone! 

I hope you enjoy this one. Updates might be a little slow but I will try my best to keep it up! 

2.16.17 EDIT: Update will be every sunday

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Clara lurked near the back of the hunting group, one hand fingering the handle of the knife nestled in her sleeve, and the other holding down the taught string of her bow. She kept her back to the group, and her sharp eyes picked at every detail in the forest. The only audible thing was the slight shuffle of shoes and the occasional brush of fabric against fabric. 

The group halted and spread into the trees. 

Something is here. 

She lodged the tip of her boot into the trunk of a tree and used her gloves to haul her up onto the first branch. Clara stood silent. No sounds. Quiet as a mouse, she inched her way up to the second branch and sat at the corner where the branch met the trunk. Making sure her feet were parallel with the wood and her back was straight against the trunk of the tree she surveyed the scene. Across from her, she could barely make out the stiff 'L' form of Daniel; another long distance shooter. The four of them: Clara, Daniel, Julianne and Caspar sat on the corners of the camp serving as scouts and wide range back up. 

The air grew still. A scream. 

Quicker than light, Clara's eyes focused on the soft spray of blood about ten feet away. She cursed. It was a bad idea to traverse during the night. Werewolves drew their power from the moon and hunters would be hindered by the dark. She aimed, her finger brushing anxious circles on the sturdy string of her bow. 

Another scream. This time it was closer to her. The hairs of the back of her neck stood up and she tensed, waiting for the next hint of the attacker. Briefly, her eyes focused on Daniel, to see if he saw something. 

Hunter numbers were lower than werewolf numbers. Every arrow had to be used carefully, and every hunter loss was a serious hindrance to the cause. Long distance shooters had to be cautious with every shot. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gleam of fur against the moonlight. Without hesitation she unleashed her arrow and was returned a painful werewolf howl. There was a thud, then silence. 

Suddenly, as if the gates of hell was opened, an thunder of wolves sped through the clearing. Growls erupted like a brewing storm and her arms were moving a mile a minute, systematically pulling arrows out of her quiver. 

Grab. Notch. Pull. Aim. Shoot.

Grab. Notch. Pull. Aim. Shoot.

Grab. Notch. Pull. Aim Shoot. 

Out of the corners of her eyes she could see Daniel with his rifle, aiming meticulously at each werewolf. They were everywhere. Clara had never seen so many werewolves at once. Blood shot in sprays, illuminating a bright red against the pale moonlight. Fur rippled like the ocean against the camo background of the forest. 

Daniel jumped down from his perch. He was out of silver bullets. She could see him pulling out the large knife strapped to his back to fight hand to hand. Or claw to weapon. 

Pure silver was hard to get. Since each fighter only required a few knives, weapons were easy to get. Ammo, such as bullets or arrows were harder, since each shooter could go through hundreds within one hunting trip. 

They were everywhere. Clara gritted her teeth. 

"Holy shit," She cursed as the branch waved wildly. Her eyes centered on the wolf, leaning paws against the trunk, trying to shake her off like a hungry animal would do for a small prey. She tightened her thighs against the sharp bark and her hands shook, aiming a shaky arrow at the head of the wolf. Clara unleashed one arrow that nicked the shoulder of the brown wolf. There was a small animistic whimper before it returned to pushing all it's weight against the tree. 

"Fuck," She cursed again, before glancing at the clearing. They weren't going to get out of this alive, but all hunters were prepared for the possibility of death. 

Taking a leap of faith, she tightened her grip on the dagger and jumped down, knees bent, rolling on the soft grass. She shot her first arrow and hit the soft underbelly of the wolf. She clabbered up onto her feet and ran, adrenaline pumping through her veins, pushing her shaking knees to her fastest speed. 

Grab. 

She took an arrow. 

Not-.

Her hands shook. 

Notch. 

Her feet hammered against the grass. 

Pull. 

She breathed and anticipated the paws of the werewolf behind her, seriously injured from her previous attack. 

Aim. 

She wiped her body around and quickly centered her eyes on the wolf, pounding against the forest floor. 

Shoot. 

"Shit." She muttered. It was a few feet to far too the right. Running while shooting was not one of her strong suits. How was she going to do this. She couldn't run for much longer. Although the wolf was seriously injured, she couldn't outfight him. At least not with a personal dagger and an arrow. Clara's heart pounded against her chest. 

Gra-.

"Shit." She was out of arrows. 

Her boot lodged against the wayward root of a nearby tree. 

"Shit." 

She flew, hands first onto the sharp ground, palms grinding against the sharp dirt of the forest. Clara's head knocked sharply onto the floor, and her eyes shut close, but not before seeing the large shadow of a wolf flying over her body. 

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