The Dark Ages of Wolves

Bonds

I yawn, stretch, and smoothen out the covers of my cot. Today, I find a fresh pale blue tunic sitting between the bars of my cell. I welcome clean fabric against my skin, fitting for the chilly day. I join Chery to make breakfast before I start for the chore board for the day.

"Miss Jade," I hear my name on his lips. I feel my heart pounding, and my blood runs cold. I turn, my eyes on the floor.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'd like you to come with while I hunt. Bring the leather bag," Hunter decides. I follow along with him, leaving the house behind us as we head out into the woods. Hunter rolls his neck, joins popping. He flexes his fingers out, claws lengthening as he wiggles his fingers. I watch him, as the wolves do before a hunt, lift their noses, and taste the air. I can't imagine all the different scents they must be able to distinguish. He sets forward, looking determined but distracted.

"How's your ankle?" Hunter asks.

"Hm?" I blurt out. He's talking to me? Why is Hunter troubling himself with me?

"I'm just wondering how your ankle was. It seemed to be bothering you the other day," Hunter explains.

"Better," I mumble.

"Good, that's good," Hunter sighs as if relieved. What does he care about? I am but a human, a pitiful human. I keep my distance from him. Suddenly he dashes on ahead. I do my best to keep up with him. The young alpha is quite fast and agile. I watch him disappear on ahead. The crunching of branches and some critter squeak guides me to him. Finally, he comes back with some creature, a mess of fur and blood to bring back in the bag.

"Is this too heavy?" he questions, but I shake my head.

"Can you speak?" Hunter chuckles, offering me a smile like he's trying to be friendly. I bite my lip, nodding again. Hunter sighs with a worrisome frown wrinkling across his face. He approaches, his feverish hand brushing mine, and he takes the bag away. His green eyes flicker to me. I avert my gaze. Hunter circles around me, like he's trying to meet my gaze, but I keep away.

"Hey, look, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise you, I really won't hurt you," Hunter begins, sounding most sincere; it's almost believable. He runs a hand back through his thick brown hair, averting his eyes, "I was just hoping that maybe... you and I could talk?" he questions. What the hell is there for us to talk about?

"Did I do something wrong?" I murmur after some silence.

"N-no!" Hunter stammers, ears going red. Oh, this is most awkward. "You've been at the castle for quite some time now, and I hardly know you," Hunter explains, now completely unable to look at me. I can't begin to describe the embarrassment of watching him trying to make polite conversation. Whatever game he's pulling, trying to make me think he's nice and honest, I am not about to fall for it. However, what choice do I have other than to play along?

"What's there to know?" I ask him.

"What was your home like?" he asks. Easy question.

"Home?" I begin, thinking back the little shack I called home, a sorry excuse for a home. "I lived out in the country with five older siblings. I ran away from home when I was fourteen," I tell him.

"Really?" Hunter blurts out, "That must be quite the story," he encourages me to keep going.

"I suppose. I made it to the city, picked up small little jobs here and there," I tell him, "It wasn't much, but it kept food in my stomach," I add.

"Why'd you run away?" Hunter inquires.

"There wasn't much food at home, and being the youngest, I wasn't a priority," I explain, "I stole and bargained here and there. I was pretty good at it," shaking my head at my memories. Some of them shouldn't be funny, but looking back, it makes me smile. Oh, how I could run with my little bare feet down the dirt roads. "It was quite a different life," I add. Hunter moves closer, now by my side, listening with true interest as I talk.