Protector

Chapter XVI

"Boo." Christian barked as his head popped out of a bush, a mischievous grin lifting his fluffy brown cheeks. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but cough up a laugh.

The Beast got out of the thorny bush, ruffling his fur in place. "Did I scare you?"

I scoffed and picked out some of the thorns in his light brown coat with my teeth. "You seem to forget you aren't the only creature with heightened senses." I tilted my head when the scent of fresh blood snatched my nose. "What did you catch?"

Christian flicked his bushy tail at the small pile of hares and a buck behind us. "Game's plentiful."

A feral grin curled my lips. "This is enough to keep us from hunting for a couple of days."

"Not with your appetite." Christian coughed.

"Rude ass," I barked.

"It's called having a sense of humor." He shot back.

I rolled my eyes. I clamped my jaws on the buck's bloody neck. "Let's go back. I'm starving."

Christian nodded and proceeded to carry the rest of the kills.

The sun was starting to set, its orange rays casting our shadows behind us as we walked back to the den. The scurrying of daytime animals was kept to a minimum with their nocturnal companions, however few there were, rousing from their slumbers. The chirps of the birds were also dying down whilst they settled in for the night, but the eerie lack of noise indicated something else.

Is it just me or did the birds stop chirping? Christian asked.

The birds stopped chirping alright. I dropped my load and sniffed the air, growling when the smell of fresh blood overwhelmed my nose. Damn it. I can't smell anything other than fresh blood.

Neither can I, He growled back, shuffling his paws in agitation. But something is following us.

We can't let this thing follow us to the den. I muttered, my ear flicking an unwanted fly.

What do we do?

I mulled over our options, sparing the sunset a glance. We split up. It can't chase us both, The Beast's groan of uncertainty made me sigh. I don't like the idea either.

His amber depths remained fixed on my tense stance. Be careful.

Always am. I retorted. I bowed my head, watching the Beast flee for the safety of the undergrowth.

My relief was short-lived with the snapping of a twig forcing tension back into my blood.

Stupid humans should take John seriously when he tells them not to stray beyond the preserve. Chasing them out is getting boring. I scanned the bushes and trees, my gaze flitting back to the spot when the figure's heartbeat fluttered.

I found you. I snickered, but not before I ducked to dodge a bullet. Another ricocheted past my head. A snarl of unnerving ferocity erupted from within me.

The nerve of him. I snapped, my blue irises changing into their blood-red counterpart. He almost took my damn head off!

The rifle went off. The bullet ricocheted into a tree. My teeth clamped onto the barrel of the gun.

My pupils sharpened into dots. I tensed, my lips curling to expose my teeth. I jerked my head and ripped the rifle out of his hands.

The poacher cried out. I met his fearful gaze, padding towards him like the feral animal he thought I was.