The sonorous sound of a hunting horn echoed through the woods, followed by howls of a hound pack. Fall leaves crackled under the thundering hooves of six stallions. Their chase, a massive black Puma, sprinted with blinding speed; but there was no escape. Three hounds jumped on its path, blocking its way, and the hunters closed in for the kill.
Damen, the alpha of the hunt, threw a perfect lasso over the growling Puma's head, and pulled the rope taut against its throat. "Well that was painfully easy," he grinned at his fellow hunters. The hunters laughed in agreement. He looked almost affectionately at the struggling beast and said, "Sorry bro, but can't let you go. Your coat will be fortune if we could sell it in the city." The Puma let out a gutteral growl in response. The hunters laughed.
Suddenly one of the hounds lifted its head towards the south, nose in air, ears twitching in concentration. "What is it Milo?", Damen asked the trusted dog. As if answering his question, a large shadow swooped down from the sky. It was an immense Bald Eagle, its wings reflected the sun and its eyes shone regally. It let out a deafening screech, and flew low over the hunters. The dogs went mad, barking and jumping to get the huge bird of prey, but it glided smoothly over their heads and took a reverse nose dive up in the air. During this commotion, no one heard the soft twang of a bow, the faint whistle of an arrow as it sliced through wind, and then sliced the lasso that Damen held in half. The Puma sprang before anyone could move, and with one leap and a bound, it was gone. The hounds were too baffled by the arrival of the eagle to follow the Puma. The hunters turned towards the direction the arrow came from, but the woods were empty. Astonished, they turned towards Damen, their young leader, who jumped off his steed and bend down to examine the fallen arrow. It was delicate and silver and beautifully made, proving deft craftmanship. Damen's furrowed brows relaxed as he took the details in, and a slow smile lit up his face. Shaking his head, he stood up, and said, "It's alright. It's her; Sprite."
YOU ARE READING
Sprite
FantasySprite is the heart of the people of Greton. She is both a blessing and a hellion. A forgotten curse as old as Greton itself is unleashed when she runs away from home, in a far far land where dwells a King and a Prince. Little does she know that the...
