Lunaris

Unlikely Rescuers

Mina felt the prickling heat of the beast's steaming breath tickle the back of her exposed neck, as she lay boneless and numb face forward in a snow packed ditch. Safety, wrapped in the package of Howler's Diner, was merely a few feet away, but by now, it was too late to reach it.

The backs of her knees smarted sharply with a fresh wave of pain, the slow trickle of blood from the beast's wild claws piercing into her delicate flesh soaking her torn jeans and filling the night air with the strong odor of piss and rusty metal. Mina's bladder had failed her on the quick journey down into asphalt and snow, saturating her pants with hours worth of digested coffee and water. From a third location, liquid leaked out in embarrassing trails down her face, absorbing into the filthy snow. Her tough-girl facade had shattered, crumbling away with each pitiful teardrop until the terrified, fragile woman inside revealed herself in all of her miserable and desperate glory. 

"I'm going to die, and my family won't even know where to find me." Her thoughts plummeted into a resigned sort of morbidity. She was so tired. The chase had pushed her final reserves, and she was emptied. Her heart mourned this horrible turn of events—that her mangled body would sully such a beautiful town and cause them trouble by the authorities, but she had accepted her bleak fate fairly quickly. It wasn't fair. None of it. But life hadn't been fair to her for awhile. 

The wetness of her cheeks began to burn in earnest from the face full of mucky snow, but she knew if she moved, if she made a sound, if she showed any sign of still breathing, she'd be a goner. For what felt like ages, she held her breath, forcing her body to remain limp and lifeless as a rag doll, even as the beast shoved her back and arms with a forceful nose. 

His breath fanned across her cheek, too close to her exposed ear for comfort. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, a few decimals away from mimicking an idling muscle car's engine. She choked back a sob as sticky teeth brushed against the shell of her ear, snagging her turquoise earring with one of the long incisors. Through the snow, she somehow smelled the raw meat and congealing blood lingering inside his maw, and before she could stop herself from thinking, her mind imagined a poor,  helpless animal—most likely a baby deer—loosing the race to freedom right before she had crossed his path.

  The icy pavement beside her crunched like broken glass as the beast moved around her. For a moment, complete silence filled the air. A small flicker of hope filled her heart; maybe the beast thought I was dead and left? That hope was crushed as quickly as the last remaining ounce of air being forcefully squeezed out of her body. The beast had taken residence on her sprawled back, weighing her down deeper into the snow drift with his huge paws over her shoulders, long, shaggy torso across her back and rear, and solid muzzle resting gently on top of her head. The beast huffed softly, relaxing into her shivering body with every intent to remain there.

The position would have been cute and protective—had this animal been a tame dog, one that was half the size and under one hundred pounds. But the beast was larger than the largest breeds of dogs she had ever seen. It had stood at eye level with her, with a head as large as a horse's, and paws as thick as mountain lion's. Thick mottled grey and white fur covered his body like a timber wolf, making him look fluffy and thick. Only when he settled firmly on her, did she realize his size was not all fluff, but bulk as well. He was easily one hundred-forty pounds of solid muscle, too heavy to move off of her. Unable to lift her head up to breathe, she began panicking. If he didn't tear her throat out, then he'd definitely suffocate her.