Hunter Hunter

Chapter 2

Clara should've known the plan wouldn't work. 

"Alan," Clara hissed, crawling to the barred area of her cell. The seconds dragged on as she waited for a reply. 

"Alan!" She hissed again, scared to raise her voice any higher. Werewolf hearing was spectacularly keen, she couldn't risk anything. 

"Clara?" 

She wasted no time, "We need to get out and get back to the others. We can't sit around here waiting for them to rescue us." 

There was such a slim chance the hunting group could get the two of them out. The werewolves outnumbered them by hundreds, and this was their territory. There was a better chance of them escaping by themselves. Risks were high, but losing two hunters was momentously better than risking the lives of the hunting group to save two of them. 

Clara had spent the past hour devising this plan. She had no idea what the dungeon looked like, but this plan was better than nothing. 

"The next time the man comes here to deliver food, I'm going to grab him and slam him against the bars," Clara said, "The diluted silver will be enough to knock him out, but not enough to kill him." 

She swallowed, there was a reason why she kept with her bows. Brute strength was not one of her talents. 

"Then I'll grab his keys and get us out of here," Clara said, "Sounds good?" 

"But where are we going to go?" He asked. Clara faltered. There was no way she was going to able to map out the place, but this is just going to have to work. After escaping shes just going to need to play it by ear and hope for the best. 

She licked her lips, "We run." She didn't offer any other explanation and Alan didn't ask. 

All they had to do now was wait. 

--

The familiar clank came down the stairs. Her stomach groaned at the prospect of food and this time, she made her way to the front of the cell. 

Grab him by the collars and drag him as harsh as possible. Clara wiped her sweaty palms against her legs. Her shoulders were stiff as she waited impatiently for the man to arrive. And when he was in front of her, she lurched to her feet and the world spun. She couldn't do this. If the guard was surprised at her accepting the food, he didn't show it. 

She looked at the mush in disgust. Her mind was repulsed at the look of it but her stomach was willing to accept anything by now. Gingerly, she picked up the spoon and scooped up a portion of it. She wrinkled her nose and taste tested. It was tasteless mush. 

Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes, she had never missed her mother's cooking so much. Or anyone's cooking. If only things were different. If only they hadn't died. 

Shoving down her taste buds, she finished the rest of the food in a few quick gulps, washing down the residue texture with the small cup of water provided. 

If only. 

There was no use for hoping now. Nothing could send her back in time to save them. If she could, she would've done it already. She wiped her nose with the corner of her sleeve. Clara was here now, alone, stuck in the cell, caught by those she sworn to kill. 

She was pathetic, couldn't even avenge her parents properly. Clara wrapped her arms around her legs in an attempt to keep the cold at bay. 

--

Clara was going to do it the next time the guard came. She sat near the front of the cage, swirling the spoon in hollow circles around the rim of the food bowl. There were little bits of food left in the pan which had long gone cold that she was toying around with.