SPIRIT ANIMALS FANS MUST READ!!! I created a idea for Spirit Animals series #3

Chapter Ten: Conor

THE FEAR 

The last strands of dusk had begun to creep out of the forest, darkness replacing the dapples of light that held onto the pine trees. A cold stillness settled over Conor as he walked along, the quiet seeping into his mind like a fog of danger. He scuffed the fallen needles with his foot, glancing around the unfamiliar landscape. Faint sounds of a river echoed in the distance, while the last chirps of a bird disappeared as the sun fell behind the surrounding mountains. Where am I? He wondered, squinting against the Night.

Suddenly a cry of an animal rang across the forest, filling the boy with dread. It howled clearly with rage, followed by a chorus of identical baying. They sang for a few moments, growing closer, then began yelping as they caught the scent they desired.

Conor crouched down, putting his hand to the ground and feeling the sharp pricks of pine on his fingertips. The air stiffened as there was silence. He flicked his eyes to the left side of the tree line as a flash of movement dashed past. I'm being hunted!" He thought with panic.

He could make out at least four creatures circling, their frames hidden by shadows. They appeared to be huge wolves, eyes glowing in the soft moonlight. He resisted the urge to run and try to find safety, but knew that they would easily catch up in seconds. Remaining still, fighting the feeling of fear, and trying not to breathe, he looked up and saw the animals were drawing closer, their fangs becoming visible. They were mainly black or gray and spiked up in tufts. The only thing that separated them from a normal wolf was that they walked strangely half upwards and had bristly fur sticking out from their backs.

Barely moving, he reached slowly for a blade that was tucked in his boot and brought it in front of his face, the medal reflecting a silver shine. Am I going to die? Are they going to kill me? Taking a deep breath, he calmed his thoughts. No, I can't die. I'm not ready.

But as the wolves closed in, a growl sounded behind him, sending chills up his spine. Hot breath hit the back of his neck and a snout snarled against his skin, blood seeping down.

They were a diversion as he snuck around! His mind screamed in horror. Pain blared down on Conor as the creature bit down onto its terrorized prey and shook, its teeth ripping into flesh. The Greencloak screamed in agony, gripping the wolf's fur in his hands and pulling in an attempt to get free of the iron hold. "Ahhhh! Let go of me!" He tried to speak, but only blood blubbed at his lips. He moved his arms that had become weak, his blood spilling onto the ground with every swing, beating its flank with the blade. Then an ear-slitting crack sounded next to his ear and for a long moment he felt as if ice had crept up his body, freezing all the mussels and stopping his heart.

The creature let go and Conor fell limply below its gaze, a chilly fog settling over his vision. He tried to move, but only pain answered with a screech of torture as the animals moved in to finish of their prey. No! He cried from within. Closing his eyes and hoping that it would be over soon, he felt a cool breeze sweep over him and voices came from beside him. The aching soon turned into a dull hurt and he let out a sob.

Conor leaped to his feet, his hair was drenched in sweat as he gasped for breath. The midday sun was shining brightly above his head and he blinked away the stinging tears that had leaked out. It was all a dream!

He swallowed back his nightmare and turned to see Worthy, his tail fluffed out, and one eye wide, sitting with his legs out in front of him.

"Warn us the next time you have a dream!" He said, "Jumping up and shouting is not the best way to wake up."