Forsaken by the one person who was supposed to love her unconditionally, Red must brave the magic and monsters of the Wylds to find her true place in the world.
*****
Plague...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The woods sighed with the cycle of life and death, its misty breath pushing and pulling through the tangle of branches and vines. Sebastian crouched on a branch high above the pearlescent fog, loathe to let the paralytic sleepshroom spores they carried deep into his lungs. His body was strong enough to fight off the side effects, but he didn't want to risk sweaty palms or a slight tremor that might spoil his aim.
He needed all of his faculties for the quarry he pursued this night.
Something rustled. The bowstring snapped taut, only to relax a moment later. A stupid pheasant emerged from its burrow some sixty yards below, mistaking the quiet of the woods for peace and safety. In actuality, it was one of the most dangerous times of year; the warm spring air rolled over the thawing lakes to the west, through the Fungus Groves that clustered around their edges. It was a misleading name for together they formed a veritable forest in its own right, where one wrong step could send up a cloud of anything from a mild hallucinogen to deadly nerve toxins, the very same assassins sought to line their blades.
There was a low thump as the bird collapsed on its side. Moments later, a three-tailed fox closed in, amber eyes glowing with satisfaction. Sebastian watched as it ignored the stupid bird in favour of picking up one of the abandoned eggs, scurrying back under the sprawling roots of a large tree.
Smart, Sebastian thought, as another predator closed in on the pheasant. This one wasn't as clever as the fox; instead of holding its breath as it surfaced and taking its prey underground, where the air was clean and safe, the bobcat took the pheasant by the neck, flanks heaving as it swallowed it whole then and there.
A shudder ran down the length of its spine, the only indication of its organs shutting down as the poison entered its digestive tract. The bobcat went stiff as a board and then it too collapsed, blood still drying on its whiskers as another monster swooped down from the branches to carry it away. It was like an owl, but with the leathery wings and talons of the wyverns that infested the Grey Fist mountains to the east.
Other, arguably more terrifying monsters snapped at its legs as it passed through the air, missing by a hairs-breadth. They slunk back into the slimy hollows from whence they came, rightfully afraid of lingering out in the open. The Wylds was no-one's domain. Even the largest predators could be brought low by the most unassuming of pests; species evolved every day to keep up in this harsh and yet bountiful wilderness, where violence was synonymous with survival.
Distant crashing sounds echoed through the trees, foreshadowing the passage of prey. A large prey animal at that, if the crunching fall leaves and snapping twigs were any indication, as it clearly hadn't learned the importance of moving quietly through the underbrush. Sebastian cocked his head and placed a hand against the tree trunk, feeling the vibrations of its footfalls reverberating through the wood.
Bipedal, he realised, reaching for his quiver in a fluid motion. Coming from the west.
The human child skidded into the clearing below, chest heaving as it dragged air in and out of its lungs. A lycan child, if it hadn't been brought to its knees yet; Sebastian's mouth turned up as he realised what creatures were hot on its heels. A chilling howl split the air, as if in confirmation of his suspicions, and he nocked an ashwood arrow, aiming down the sights.
The wrought-iron feather tickled Sebastian's cheek as he pulled back the bowstring. The ashwood frame strained, barely able to withstand his strength. It would be kind to put the child out of his misery; there could only be one reason he was running from his own kind, and it was better to die out here than to be dragged into the Hidden Vale. Sebastian shuddered at the thought of that unnatural gash in the ground, oozing rancid darkness like ichor, slowly infecting the land around it. One could only guess what kind of monster lurked within its depths, capable of bullying proud and mighty lycans into bringing it monthly sacrifices. Always children, not a day over ten.
A pack of wolves raced through the underbrush, their sleek, grey coats almost blending with the mists. Only the white wolf at its head gave their location away, and even then, no monsters dared to confront them. The alpha rivalled the size of a Rock Bear, drowsy giants that could easily be mistaken for a boulder in the winter months. His fur was white as freshly fallen snow, his eyes the crimson of freshly spilled blood. That he looked untouched, unchanged by the years, after all that he'd made those around him suffer...
Sebastian's window of opportunity narrowed to the space of a single breath as they thundered past his perch, a force of nature unto themselves. Years of hatred culminated in the tip of his iron arrowhead and he let the arrow fly, whistling a deathly tune as it shot through the air.
A soft thump informed him that it made its mark, followed by a sharp yelp of pain. The alpha collapsed on its side, tripping up the smaller wolves hot on his heels. A tangle of snarls and fangs ensued, until a grey beast intervened with a rumbling snarl, like thunder warning of a lightning strike. The others fell back as the grey wolf nosed the alpha's side, his snout coming away wet with blood.
Something lurched in Sebastian's chest as he withdrew from the branch, climbing higher into the canopy. He heard shouts of alarm and bays for blood, but by the time the wolves had organised their defences, Sebastian was but a memory. A vengeful wraith returned to the woods; the faintest impression of a man left behind in the fog.
