Zirah
The howling sounds of wolves echoing through the cave alerts me first to the knowledge that the small bubble we all live in is being invaded. Which is something we all have lived in fear of. We have waited for this day, it was only a matter of time, and it appears our time is finally up. At first, I think I am dreaming, that the echoes and screams are just part of the nightmare my mind is conjuring up.
Nightmares of this time have always plagued me, so I knew just like grandma something was coming, but still we held onto the hope that our dreams were only based on our subconscious fear of this exact moment.
Another blood-curdling scream has my eyes opening. It is too close, too loud to be mistaken for anything in the dream world. Snarling and shouts has me sitting upright in my bed, followed by the first vicious growl somewhere down the cave’s corridor.
My eyes scan the dark cave while I secretly pray that I am wrong. Yet the sound of flesh being ripped apart and claws scraping rock has me tossing my legs out of bed. A bed is too nice of a word. It is actually a boulder covered in bear’s fur and anything we have scavenged for cloth.
The caves are cold at night, and they are even chilly during the day, too, but they are our only place of safety. Well, not anymore. My eyes dart to my grandmother's bed. However, she is no longer asleep either. Instead, she is moving toward the fire that is reduced to glowing embers as the last of the log burns away. She douses it with water, holding a finger to her lips, while my eyes move to entry into this part we live.
These aren't regular wolves. Oh, how I wish they were. Ordinary wolves, I would have preferred. No, these were werewolves: part human, part animal. Beasts of man.
These savage beasts are part of the reason the human population is being so terribly decimated. They are also the reason we live in these caves, far away from the monsters that linger on the borders of the mountains and surrounding the neighboring Kingdom.
from my resting spot, before making my way over to her. She glances in the entrance direction, where the
count, it has been drummed into me for as long as I can remember. We move quickly, making our way deeper into the cave, climbing the rocks
isn't just werewolves,” she whispers, and I peer over my shoulder, suddenly fearing the dark. My eyesight is better than most, but this cave is blinding in the darkness. We would be lost if we weren't counting
I ask.
guards,” she answers. I know better than to doubt her. My grandmother has the gift of sight. She is a witch, a seer, old yet no less powerful. However, her parlor tricks, potions, and spells would hold no ground against a Lycan.
pushing me faster and further into the cave. “We can't let them find you,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me down another branch of the cave. Her words make me glance
he would rat us out. Now he has ruined everything. I need more time, I should have had more time, the prophecy’s isn’t for another year,” she mutters before her words cut.
it is the Lycans. Their pace is much faster than werewolves, and I can hear them moving in closer. My grandmother's hair swipes my face as she stares in the direction we come
what you are—” she trails off, grabbing my
you talking about?” I hiss. She sounds like
child, keep
the narrowing incline. She glances up at the hole