|| Orange ||

|| 2 Chapter ||

The young man awoke with a start and troubled; his breathing quickened and his heart pounding.

The same dream, the same damned dream visited him for the thousandth time sending him into panic and turmoil.

He staggered to his feet and a dizziness suddenly surprised him, forcing him to support himself against the wall. He pressed the fingers of his thin, skeletal hand to his temples to try to ease the pain a little.

He came out of the momentary refuge and looked around him: the weather had improved, and the light rays of the sun hit him in the face; he noticed that sight, along with hearing, had significantly improved compared to the previous day.

He moved away from the cave continuing with a light step on his way, while he walked without making any noise he refined his hearing to hear even the slightest and most suspicious sound caused by the displacement of the snowy surface.
His slightly pointed ears, like those of wolves, continued to move without stopping and his eyes took on a faint predatory expression, scanning every where they landed.

A slight rustle woke him, and so he concentrated all his attention on that particular point; his prey was quite far from him but nevertheless, with her sharp sight, he could perfectly see her: she was a white hare with black ear tips.

The boy tried to get as close as possible, hid behind a tree trunk and observed his prey more closely; he remained hidden, waiting for the right moment to attack her, but before he knew it, the hare noticed him and ran away in a hurry.

He was upset, after all he had never hunted before and didn't know how to do it, not knowing the basics.

The figure who watched him was amused and a slight smile contoured his face.

The boy, after some attempts to catch something edible, gave up so he decided to resume his journey.

He put on the hood of his cloak, various white locks blocked his view but he didn't care.
It was a simple fabric of a faded gray, on one side it was knotted leaving some fabric to make a hood; it was old and crumpled with various holes of various shapes, scattered here and there, some dust was still sticking to the light surface, not wanting to come off.

His weariness regained possession of his thin, bare body, but he was used to it after all; the lesions on his body started to burn again, he didn't care and he continued without stopping.
He was stubborn and proud; he wouldn't give up so quickly after longing for freedom.

The hours passed quickly and from that pause two days followed. Not once did the young boy stop for a brief pause, continuing incessantly without being overwhelmed by hunger, by continuous suffering, and agony, and by the excruciating pain that the various wounds caused him from which now they themselves let his scarlet fluid escape. , still hot and dense, making it fall to the ground staining the immaculate snow in a new color first in small drops and now up to large spots that left obvious traces.

A series of howls rose into the air scaring the boy, causing him to shake and tremble.

"only this I was missing"

He felt them damn close and panic dominated his body, leaving him petrified not knowing what to do.

As long as he had planned his plan for him perfectly and long enough, the only factor he hadn't taken into consideration was being torn apart by a pack of wolves, no matter how obvious it was being in the woods.

His knees, like his hands, began to tremble, his breath short of breath, his ears in constant movement to pick up every single movement and his eyes to scan every direction to see which way they could emerge.

A sound of footsteps behind him woke him up and turned him around.

His eyes immediately glued to those of the enemy, leaving him breathless or a chance to look away.