Delicate Deception (On Hold)

Chapter 7: Frantic Notions

I darted towards the scene as others fled, fear clear in their jerky, frantic movements. My heart pounded a thunderous beat, swift and unrelenting. I furiously blinked away the tears in my eyes, any feeling beyond exasperation having been lost to me. And when my vision cleared, my heart dropped to the floor.

Ziko lay on the ground, unharmed, his little body curled in a defensive position.

And there, a few feet away, fought our escort, the hound gnashing on his arm without any notice of stopping. The two rolled on the ground, further and further away; he was trying to lure the beast elsewhere, my dazed mind noticed with a start. An animalistic howl rung out through the night, just as I reached Ziko, swinging him into my arms before looking back for the shortest second.

The beast lay thrashing on the floor, the male's knee pressed to his stomach.

Run. No one cares for him. A cruel, serpentine part of me whispered. I squeezed my jaw hard, the tinge of pain enough to bring me back.

So I ran. Away, to the surrounding shops- one now open as a shelter. I bent down, leaving a short, whisper of a kiss on Ziko's head before hurtling out, towards the writhing animal, and towards the injured human that had saved my son's life.

"What are you-" his words fell short as I skid along the grass, adrenaline still at an all time high.

The male struggled to keep the large animal on the ground, as the dog continued to snap its teeth, too close to his face for comfort. I could make out the deathly luster of its fur, scintillating against the city lights. The desperation in its movements- desperation to kill, shed blood was an all too similar feeling. I looked into its eyes- an endless den of darkness and held myself from snarling back at it, at the thing that had the potential to easily rip open the throats of fully grown men, much less a helpless child. And for a moment, just a moment, I wondered if I was any better than this animal.

It's torso equalled the size of mine, I surveyed as I put weight on its left leg, easing onto its stomach with practiced patience. It snapped at me frenziedly- once- before large, tattooed hands encircled its snout, enclosing the sharp canines, coated with saliva and blood. Blood, splattered on its muzzle, heaving stomach, some on the nearby grass. My gaze followed the trail of red to a painfully marred forearm, inches from my face.

"Orias," my lips moved a fraction of an inch, almost imperceptible to the human eye. His gaze jumped to mine, just as I wondered at how foreign the name sounded on my tongue. I looked up at his face, grim with concentration, blood dripping down a scratch on his jaw. His eyes, full of relief, held mine.

Relief...relief for my son, I realized. Not for himself.

"Thank you," I whispered, words that I had not uttered in months- years. I dug my other knee in the ground, hard, the slight pain reeling me away from plunging into the intensity of his gaze once more. He tilted his chin down for a mere second, accepting the gratitude, still holding down the hound's continuously jolting hind legs. I only clenched my jaw, mind still running through all that could have gone wrong.

It didn't take long for a medical team to reach us, the lights and sirens so out of place in the peaceful city. I walked away from the scene, Ziko hanging quietly to me. I craned my neck, attempting to get a quick glance at his face, only to find his eyes still wide open, the events of the night obviously having left a permanent imprint in his mind. Tucking him securely into my lap, I slid the seat belt over both of us and watched, from afar, as Orias brushed away the help of the paramedics. After a quick pat down, he begrudgingly accepted bandages and limped over to the car. My eyes scanned the leg he was favoring, but could get nothing on the extent of the injury as he slipped into his own seat, shutting the door gently.